It is debatable as to whether The Berlin Wall was built to keep Communists in or Democracy out. It did however serve as a very physical reminder of Post WWII political unrest. This Iron Curtain exists no longer.
Pink Floyd’s classic rock opera, “The Wall”, is written as an autobiographical therapy session for lead singer, Roger Waters. “Pink” imagines a wall built between he and his loyal listeners as we get glimpses into his fatherless, drug strewn, melodramatic life.
And in the END….. that WALL COMES DOWN too.
I grew up in households that seemed to always have a hound underfoot. There was, Punkin, the extra wrinkly Shar-pei that had to wear the ‘Cone of Shame’ after eye surgery removed access baggage from around her eyes. And who could forget the “Thousand Yard Stare” of Diddo our Cocker Spaniel? There’s been Dobermans and Dalmatians and purebreds and mutts. The list is long but none have measured up to our current fleabag.
My wife’s family, on the other hand, never owned a dog. It’s not that they were against it. I guess they just never got around to it. And that’s how it came to be some seven years ago that we got Gunner.
A friend of ours was inundated with a double digit litter of pups and Michele whined, begged and flashed adorable little smiles until she got her way and I brought a birthday present named “Gunner” home. This Big Orange Dog has been written about before. And you’ll see him pop up in pictures here from time to time too because he loves the camera. This Newfoundland/Golden Retriever/random stranger/Yellow Lab of a dog has easily become the best family dog I have ever known. He’s outgrown a puppy stage that seemed to last forever and is now a stately gentleman that can revert to his playful ways with the drop of a snowflake. He’s obedient and loving. He’s gentle and protective. He loves us unconditionally and all equally. Because of this… Michele thought all dogs must be this way… and so began a new challenge for her.
Michele has whined, begged and flashed adorable little smiles ten too many times over the past few months - always with an ulterior motive. My wife has envisioned a companion for our aging Gunner; another dog for our children to love; another canine to care for; more poops for me to pick up! From the start I have been adamant that although the thought of having a second dog is intriguing, we don’t have the space! Our house is modest. Our yard is in town and not fenced. We already have a Dog and he is Big! Dogs cost money; require attention and love and Big Dogs do that on a multiplied scale. As I see it, getting another dog just isn’t in the cards for us now.
But Michele is persistent. In 8 years of marriage, she has mastered some Jedi mind manipulation trick that must be taught in Hot Wife Class somewhere. (You know what I’m talking about, don’t you Chubbs?)
She found a way to convince me to allow another hound in the house. The past few weeks, Michele has befriended a local Animal Shelter and let this relationship with homeless dogs rip at my heartstrings. Michele has not pushed the envelope but rationalized and debated with a political prowess I didn’t know she had. Last Saturday when my last line of defense crumbled, Michele immediately changed her Facebook status to – “The Wall has been Broken.”
I caved in and said that we could provide “foster care” for a shelter dog. I suppose it would be a trial run for the dog. Casey is a beautiful, 3 year old white lab. She dwarfs Gunner but he didn’t want anything to do with her anyway. She is well mannered and never so much as whimpered in our presence. She immediately took to our children and you could tell that she was a people pleaser. Casey also showed that she had some separation anxiety, as I’m sure most Shelter Dogs develop. The lab was immediately drawn to Michele because she was the one that broke her out of prison. If Michele was in the kitchen, Casey laid at her feet. If Michele sat at the computer, Casey sat at her feet. When Michele sat on the heat vent, Casey was sure to follow. It seemed as if this dog was nailing the application process. She brought smiles to my kids. My wife had another dog to love and Gunner and I could carry on about our normal routines. That is until…..
Daybreak shed a new light on our foster dog relationship. The night before Casey had messed in the house and I wrote it off as a miscommunication on my part but I was too quick to judge. Casey left 2 more potty spots in the living room for us to dodge as we readied for school. Michele and I had discussed what to do with the dogs during the day while we were at work and decided that as well mannered as Casey appeared, she and Gunner should do just fine. I did however insist that Michele take a trip home at lunch to reassess the situation.
The email came from Michele shortly after Noon.
“Casey is back at the shelter. Someone is coming to look at her today along with another dog. She whined the whole way there and knew something was up. Do you really want to know how the house was? Or shall we just be happy that I got my attempt at having 2 dogs (which I think we could do, just a smaller dog who is already trained like Gunner :)) and move on? I appreciate Gunner very much now and realize what a good dog he is. I'm not ready to go back to the popping and pee stage and training a new dog to not wreck our house. I hope she gets adopted today!”
Casey’s separation anxiety was too much for our little house. In the 3 hours that no one was home she managed to: take down a set of drapes, knock off one of our collectible bear statues from the highest window to the west, knock things off of a window sill in the kitchen, (proving she really needed to see out of every window in the house), pee in more than one place and take a nice large dump on the welcome matt near the front door. The smell from her being a kennel dog had permeated throughout the house and was overwhelming the minute you walked in. Casey is a good dog. She needs some space to roam. She will make some family very happy after they give her a bath. Me, I let my guard down and let my Wall crumble under the pressure of a pretty face. I am wrapped around my wife’s pinky and I love her so much that this time I let her get what she asked for. And in return, I think I got what I wanted too…
“I've got a little black book with my poems in. Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in. When I'm a good dog, they sometimes throw me a bone in.” - Nobody Home “The Wall”
