Spittin' Pretty

Finn had this passionate, jubilant dance that could be sparked by anything from me giving him a bone; the sound of my keys in the door; "W.A.L.K"; even trips to the vet caused Finn's tail to wildly spin and his paws to flip flap in all directions. What prompted his very distinct "I'm not amused" face was the trick "rollover". My Lug did it because there was food involved and Finn never passed up a treat, even nasty grocery store biscuits that my neighbors dolled out for his tap dance routines. Early in my career, we were asked to show off my Lug's tricks for another trainer's class as a way to get the students excited about what their dogs would learn. I was so honored and was nervously rattling off "weave", "show me your belly", "crawl" and others to Janice, a trainer that I was in awe of, when she asked me if he actually liked performing all of the goofy behaviors I had taught him. Well, his eyebrows always shifted up and down as he huffed before slowly rolling over, a second sigh at the end for punctuation when he was lying on his barrel belly again. That moment shaped who I have become as a trainer, it had not dawned on me that because Finn could "rollover", did not mean he had to, it was just a trick. And, because I let go of "rollover", my Lug was a smashing success on stage.

Gavin, on the other hand, will roll onto his back for almost anything. Wriggling and worming, he loves to display his tuxedo and flick his paws up and down when dogs are pouncing on top of him. Lil' Big Head prefers to lay the same way whenever he is chewing on a bone. I swear the first few times I watched him, I was sure the antler was going to puncture his throat but he keeps a sturdy grip on his toys; much like the oomph he uses to hold onto all the trees he climbs. When Gavin gets bored of gnawing; he throws his trinket into the air, pauses for a second then pounces on it. It is quite endearing to watch Lil' Big Head entertain himself.

We started Trick Class this week and Gavin was so excited to learn a few new skills that we had not yet started on our own. His "rollover" at home has been a work in progress but Lil' Big Head was quite the comedian in class as he rolled around like a tootsie roll over and over while the instructor was demonstrating the trick with another dog. He was so proud of himself, giant pittie smile that prompted the song "Feed me Seamore" to play in my head, sweet little guy looked just like a venus fly trap.

Gavin may delight in sharing his jewels with the world but I am ecstatic that he has figured out that fetch is more fun than darting after a ball, spinning in circles while holding the prize in his mouth then accidentally dropping it, only to spring into the air before snatching his toy up again. Now, I able to stand in way so familiar to me and watch Lil' Big Head tear past me with the precision and speed of a gazelle. I get the biggest kick of pretending to toss it one direction then throwing it the other way. I can hear and feel Gavin's paws hit the ground he runs so fast; his ears and tail flipping into the air. When he returns the ball to me, all grace disappears. Lil' Big Head runs a bit sideways, sometimes crashing into the wall, then charges full speed ahead towards me. He has never blasted into me but often when he tries to stop it's a mish mash of paws, tail, teeth and ball. If there was a string anyway near his head, I could market him as a drunken tinker toy. I have yet to see anyone pass us without stopping and laughing at how much fun Gavin is having and how ridiculous he is.

When Finn was young, we were in the backyard playing his favorite game; fetch came naturally to my Lug. I never taught him to carry toys in his mouth, Finn was instinctively obsessed with tearing after tennis balls. He too lacked grace but, in both directions and as my Lug frequently slid, like a baseball player, into home plate to catch his toy; Finn then bounded into the air to bring it back to me for more, more, more. He noticed a new, different tennis ball in the neighbor's yard behind us; though it looked exactly the same to me.  My Lug was absurdly clumsy; often running into lampposts or parking meters but with the precision of a cheetah capturing it's prey; Finn was up and over the fence without even grazing the wire or rails. Once the ball was in his mouth, he looked at me, dumbfounded about how he was going to get back over to me. If I knew then what I know now, I would have bounced our ball around a bit. If it motivated him to get over one side of the fence, it sure couldn't hurt to get him back home. I called him, jumped up and down the best I could but he

just stood there, neon yellow toy poking out from his spirited grin; tail oafishly wagging. So, I raced around the block and though it was likely a three minute jog, I worried that someone would snatch him by the time I got there or he would run away. But, as I approached what looked like the house I have always dreamed about, big and buttery yellow ranch-style home with white shutters and the most beautiful wrap around porch; Finn was laying there, waiting patiently, smiling and tail speeding up with every step I took towards him. I shook my head and said "dude, let's go home". And , my Lug pushed himself up with his front paws and ambled down the steps, ball in his mouth and dopey look on his face; happy to go home.

Periodically, I have to take a beat when I open the front door, and there's no Finn to welcome me home and tell me about his afternoon. Gavin is still in his crate while I am away; his restraint to not eat my blankets and rugs still requires me to be close by. I had gone kayaking with some friends last week and was bone tired as I opened the door; but that perfect exhaustion from being full by the company and activities of my day when I heard a rustling in the house. I had left the lights off and when I opened the door, felt a cold nose hit my hand. I screamed and I heard poor Gavin scramble and jump back. Lil' Big Head then wiggled into to me, danced around my legs and squirmed to make sure I knew he happy to see me and pumped to hear about my day. Confused, I went to see his crate, door wide open. The only thing I could conclude was that I didn't latch it. Lil' Big Head had such a blast letting himself out of his house that my couch was exactly how I left it. And, it made me think that he may soon be ready to have full reign of the house when I am gone.