Rosie Girl
“i’M nOt ReAlLy A dOg PeRsOn”
When I was young, I was bitten a few times by dogs. Nothing serious, but I was young enough and it was startling enough that I wasn’t a “big fan” of dogs. As soon as my sister moved out of our parents’ house, she got the boxer puppy she always wanted - Duncan. Not long after that I was hospitalized with mono, and while I was home recovering, Duncan was there (now I don’t recall the reason he was there) but he wanted to play – all the time – and mono by nature drains you of all energy, so it was not a great time, but Duncan was a great dog and started my parents love of the breed. As soon as I moved out, they got their own, Jake. Eventually circumstances lead to Duncan staying with them permanently but when he passed Jake was lonely, so they adopted another – Mugzy – from a boxer rescue. It was never made clear to me why anyone would have given Mugzy up – he was the best. The dog that made me like dogs, not just tolerate them. Mugzy had a funny trait of wilding licking the air whenever someone came in the door. The answer to that was to train him to grab a toy when ever someone came in, but mom and dad always thought it was funny to describe his issues as “not being able to control his licker” –and it was hilarious.
Even then, I “liked” dogs, but I didn’t love them. I still didn’t think of myself as much of a ‘dog person’. I was probably just too selfish and immature at the time, but I like to think I have grown since then. That growth is due to 2 events. Meeting my husband and meeting my Rosie.
After dating for just a few months, then moving in together, we took the next logical step, we adopted a puppy. Not my husband’s first dog, but the first one I could ever consider mine. I remember the first few nights of crate training – absolutely heart wrenching. One night she had an accident in her crate and my heart is still tortured by the fact that I couldn’t distinguish between whining for attention and howling for real help and discomfort. (Though I do recall I gave in that night to discover the issue and cleaned her up so at least she wasn’t stuck in there like that all night- but it was of little comfort at the time.) We took Rosie to one-on-one training classes with a local dog trainer that would compete with his own Australian shepherds. He was great and we taught Rosie all the tricks: Come, sit, stay, roll over, etc. She was brilliant. I am sure it took longer than I remember, and it was more difficult as well, but now, 8 years later, I only know her as a super smart, obedient angel that understands every single word I say, whether it is directed at her or not.
She also injures herself regularly yet mysteriously, farts toxic gas and eats way too much. But she also helped train Hank so that we didn’t need classes, and now he knows all the tricks too (except the ones she kept to make herself special- Hank still doesn’t understand ‘shake’).
Now that we have added a 3rd puppy dog to the mix, I am again so grateful to have Rosie. She doesn’t love Cooper like she loves Hank (yet…) she doesn’t like it when he tries to snuggle with her, or bites her ankles, under belly or crawls under her food bowl – but really, who would be cool with that?? She IS showing him that crates are cool, and she hasn’t once snapped or nipped at him – just her low, slow, guttural growl to let him know he is going somewhere he shouldn’t. She leads by example, and even though she doesn’t necessarily like it, she stays in the same room with us, all the time. She is a diligent, alert, and responsible ‘Alpha’ in our pack and I cannot imagine life without her, so I have decided that she will live forever. I hug and squeeze her several times a day and tell her she is smart and pretty and I love her, and my husband will remind me of that time, when we were first dating, and I said “I’m not really a dog person” – what an idiot I was!
