Friday, January 28, 2011
From the beginning, he was a good dog. Sure, he had his puppy moments and rambunctiousness (I remember running through the neighborhood in my pajamas one night chasing him after he had ran away during a potty break and another instance of him peeing right on my foot shortly after we got him because he was so excited about something). There were also a handful of damaged items that he chose to chew up when he escaped from his kennel while my husband and I were at work (mostly pillows). But overall, he has always had a very sweet and obedient disposition.
He was also a major people lover. Nothing made him happier than to give love to someone and have them give love back. If you did that, you had a friend for life. That big tail would wag and wag whenever someone paid attention to him, even to the end. But if you were a young child, you had to make sure to duck or keep a tail wag distance away to avoid being clubbed in the head. I remember several instances of our young children gettting a "beating" from a happy tail.
Next to human attention, fetching was his second great love. Be it a stick, a ball, or some other projectile, he would happily run after it and bring it back, tail wagging, time and time again. I remember throwing a stick into the Mississippi River over and over and over. There was no stopping him when he was younger, his desire to fetch would far outlive our stamina for throwing that stick. We actaully used to worry that while playing fetch in the water, that he wouldn't know when to stop and would fetch until he was too tired to swim back to shore. Thankfully, that never happened and it was only in the last few months that the joy of fetching became too much for his tired body.