By Garry Barker
Head of the Holler
February 10, 2009 01:52 pm
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Anybody who knows me that my promise to not write about my dog doesn’t hold any water.
From the first dog, Pal, to Coco and Puff, my dogs have been a big part of my life. A group of women in Richmond once told me to write less about my dog and more about my wife, but my wife writes so much of her own stuff that she doesn’t leave me much.
Besides, the dogs can’t read and retaliate.
The current canine, Rex, is about 3 months old, a Border Collie with that breed’s uncanny intelligence and lively spirit, an 18-pound puppy who runs and plays until he falls asleep on his feet. That doesn’t happen often, except at bedtime, when he’s ready to find his rug and flop over. He sleeps all night and wakes me up far too early for a bathroom run.
Most days we make it outside.
Housebreaking a headstrong pup is a challenge, though Rex tries to atone for his mistakes by coming to get somebody for the cleanup. His help does not improve the smell and the nasty job.
Rex’s toys — slippers, a pair of Justin boots, chew bones, socks, sticks, his Gravy Train squeak toy, some McDonald’s kid’s meal toys, a green football with a squeaker inside and whatever else he can grab — are constantly underfoot, as is Rex himself.
My hands and wrists are still bloody from his constant playful chewing, and last week he learned to jump.
Now, if he thinks I’m headed toward my recliner, I find a dog waiting, grinning and wagging, to keep me from sitting down.
He also can reach just about anything. He’s a terror to shoes, socks, wastebaskets, toilet paper and Kleenex boxes. He is a brazen thief.
If one of his toys rolls under a dresser or somewhere else he can’t reach, he will come and bark for help until he gets it.
There is a mouse loose somewhere in the house and Rex is terrified by it. Of course, a distant bark from a larger dog will send Rex scampering and whimpering behind my feet.
Rex still likes everybody, and probably 30 people have come by the Gazette office to visit with him. He’s happy to see them, and does not chew on strangers.
He tries to drive the truck, tries to talk and has developed a taste for red meat. If we cook steak, the dog has to be chastised, but then he will sit quietly, seemingly praying for a piece of meat to fall on the floor.
He always gets a small bite. I know he’s not supposed to, but he does.
Rex has one blue eye and one gray eye, a set of sharp choppers that would make a piranha jealous, and plenty of black and white fuzzy hair. He is more white than a normal Border Collie, and has a bird dog’s speckled forepaws.
He responds well to a whistle, but every medication I take has the side effect of a dry mouth and when I whistle it sounds more like a tire going flat.
Rex likes TV, especially high-pitched sounds and kids talking, and he will romp with children until he makes himself sick.
I admit that there are times when I’d like a break, a nap and some rest, but Rex does not see things that way. Sometimes he will crawl on me and go to sleep, and I value those brief moments.
I only call Rex by the wrong name about half the time now, but he seems to answer to “Puff” about as well as he does his own name.
It’s a dog’s life.
Garry Barker is the author of “Head of the Holler: Volume 1,” from Wind Publications. Order at windpub.com/books/HeadOfThe Holler.htm or from Amazon.com.
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Photos
Garry Barker