A Tail of Two Dogs

Ok, so I lied about not having a new post tonight.

As some of you know, I have two dogs. A 9 year old male Lab, Bogey, and a 4 year old (I think) female Beagle, Candy (she was a stripper in her past life. Or an Interventionist. I’m not quite sure, but I didn’t have the heart to rename her Bridget, as I had originally intended). I love them both, and they couldn’t be more different.

Obedience
My lab, while in many ways is the canine Beth (i.e. the consummate people pleaser), in one way he is a stubborn mother. He doesn’t come when called unless there is some other enticement. When I put him outside, I have to hawk him. On more than one occasion, he has taken off for greener pastures (literally, my next door neighbor doesn’t have a dog, so his lawn is oh so green, unlike mine with yellow pee patches dotted throughout). When I call him, bellowing “BOGEY!” he typically doesn’t respond, or looks around like “Bogey? Who?” Not until I make it clear that some food product is in my hand does he even begin to act like he knows who I am.

That said, inside, it’s another story. My beagle won’t give me the time of day. Seriously, I’ve asked. She can’t tell time. The only person she will come to when called is my father, and that’s usually because he has Cheetos. When I do call her, Mr. Hearing Impaired Bogey himself comes trotting over. I think it’s because he gets sick of hearing me say “Candy…come here girl. Candy. Candy!” over and over again.

Food
Oh they both love their kibble (grain free Sweet Potato and Fish. What kind of fish? Damned if I know). Bogey had a slightly more discerning nose, despite the fact that I have seen him lick his feet, then where his balls used to be, then his feet again then try to give me a kiss. Candy literally will eat cat poo (sorry!).

I thought this was a sensory thing until one night last week when I spilled a container of brown rice. Bogey was in the room and saw it, went over and licked up a bit of it, then turned away, clearly disinterested. Candy on the other hand lapped every last kernel up, like fat girl on a diet only allowed 1 ounce (wait, that would be me). Bogey looked from Candy to me as if to say “What? She was a stray. What’s your excuse for eating that crap?”

Tonight while preparing my lunch they both sat in front of me, breathless with anticipation. I tossed a few pieces of Romaine lettuce to them. Bogey ate part of a leaf, again turning away. Candy ate every morsel on the floor. Then I tossed a piece of broccoli on the floor. Candy snatched the lone piece, ran under the dining room table and trotted back moments later with a floret on her nose. Bogey gave me the same disgusted look I never thought possible from a lab. I can’t say I wasn’t warned when it came to beagles.

Walking
Bogey loves to walk. He pulls me along as if there was a pot of gold at the end of our path, only pausing to pee every few minutes. For example, I took him on a short walk last week to see my dad at the office, less than a half a mile away from the house. By the time we got there my arm hurt from pulling him back, and I counted no less than four pauses to pee. Can dogs have an enlarged prostate?

As for Candy, she’s not so big on the walking, kind of like me when I’m not feeling the exercise thing. I’ll put the leash on her and oh yeah, she’ll go outside, but unless she sees a big juicy steak, she will plant herself in one spot and look at me with distain.

Night Time
I’ll admit, my motivation for getting another, smaller, dog was for nighttime. No, nothing strange, but while fostering my friend’s dog, a dachshund, I got used to the furry little foot warmer. Bogey will happily share my bed…well, sharing isn’t really the word. He takes up ¾ of my queen sized mattress, so he more like let’s me cling to the edge of it, so he has been relegated to the floor. Candy took quite a bit of coaxing to even sleep in my bedroom, forget sleeping in the bed. When I pick her up and put her next to me, she does what I call the “1950’s Housewife” routine. She will lay, stock still, paws in the air, looking at me as if to say “are we done cuddling now?”. As soon as I turn away she hops off of the bed and into her doggie bed on the floor.

I could go on, as any dog owner could, but I think I’ve demonstrated my two very different pups. And you know what? I wouldn’t trade either one of them in, with all of their personality tics, for the world.