Lazy Boy

Dear Max,

Last week was my first birthday, and I am not a puppy any more. My mother did not give me a present as she was only concerned with a birthday present for her husband. His birthday is not until November 20th. From what I heard in the household there was a lot of talk about him not wanting a present.Apparently this is what he wants every year. Nothing! Well he got a present anyway, and it came early.

 I thought everything was about me! At least I am well behaved now, and she has not taken any of my comforts away.....such as my Lazy Boy. Most people sit in a chair to rest, but not my mom. Nope she lays in bed, and I am snuggled next to her. I guess that's the present Max......

 Tobes

Cervical Collar

Dear Max,

The new obedience collar you gave my mom when she showed you how I was slowly sneaking ahead of her on our long walks is throwing unwanted attention my way.  That wide stiff black monstrosity with sticky straps (you know I'm used to my soft red braided rope) forces me to keep my head up and pay attention.  I've seen something like this on TV, but not on dogs.  But where???  

I know now, it reminds me of the commercials showing people who have been in accidents where the serious announcer in a three-piece suit talks about getting them "all the cash they deserve."

Come to think of it, the other day a stranger yelled over and asked if I had whiplash.    I guess he saw the same commercial.  (Maybe he was looking for an obedient client.) 

Anyway, people we pass shout out lots of different things. 

Max, how about this one, one I've heard several times: "Are you a "Sex in the City" dog?"  I can't figure out what that means yet, but it doesn't seem bad, since they smile at me.

I went to my dad's medical office today to meet a friend of mom's so we could go for a walk with her little dog Molly.  We walked in and his kind receptionist looked at my new high collar and recognized the posture.  I wondered if she thought I might have been in an accident, if I might call 1-800-CASH.

If I did I would be a faker.  

Because, you see, I can still pull mom even with this new collar on.  Will I ever learn?  Will she?


Tobes

Cheating

Dear Max,

What a day today!  For the first day in what seemed liked forever (remember, I'm not even a year old yet) there was no rain, not even any threatening grey clouds.  In fact, there were no clouds at all!  It was screamingly bright, and I was anxious to get outside and run on the grass.  But I can't go everywhere with my mother, and when she's gone I'm sometimes forced to listen to Dr. Phil.  My pop psychology vocabulary is growing.  For instance, I've heard it over and over and I think I now know what "cheating" means.


My mother came back today with traces of smelly blond fur all over her face, hands, shirt, and pants.  She was definitely playing with another dog!  I could tell that from the first welcome-home lick!   What did this mean?  Was I not enough for her?  I was jealous.  I didn't know what to do.

So, Max, I listened to you and decided on (alphadog)obedience(training.net).   I was soooo obedient and submissive.  I sat by her with rapt attention, I cuddled against her feet.   I was hurt and jealous, a new experience.  It felt bad.  But I remembered the good doctor.  That was it!  She was "cheating" on me...I think.


My father had come home the day before and sneaked into the kitchen with a small cellophane bag of chocolate cookies.  He sheepishly held it up and said to my mom, "I bought these cookies at the Weis supermarket, and I felt like I was cheating on you."  You see, my mom is a baker and the cookies at home always come from the kitchen oven.

He was cheating, she was hurt.  She was cheating, I was hurt.


I sound like humans; maybe they're like dogs.




Tobes

Unpredctable

Dear Max,


I like to believe that I am reliably predictable, easy to understand.  Routine is quite important to me and members of my breed and it has a calming effect on our nerves.  My mom, however, is a totally different story and though she has her morning rituals, two fried eggs for breakfast followed by a hour on the treadmill (walking really fast but not going anywhere or seeing anything new!)  I am often stymied trying to figure out the the rest of the day; what will we will do next? what will she say to throw me off?

An example, Max. 

Tonight is Sunday and on this night I am learning that she could pick a fight with Dad just because the "weekend" is over.  (I don't yet get this "weekend" thing since each day seems nearly the same to me, but that's another story.)


The phone rings and it is Helen from the answering service.  Mom is irritated and almost trips over my new but already cleanly-picked butcher's bone as she grabs my dad's outdated flip-type cell phone.  

"You really ought to stop calling the doctor on Sunday nights!" she said sternly.  

"Oh, no one ever said anything about that before," Helen cautiously answered." 

"You see...this is the time I've set aside to fight with my husband for the past 34 years.  I just don't like the idea of the weekend being almost over."

Helen was taken aback, paused, then laughed with Mom and said, "Well, now we know what a twisted sense of humor you have; I will be careful to make note of the Sunday night problem."

See what I mean Max?  Why can't she be predictable....oh....she is.


Now you know never to call on Sunday night.

Good night,


Tobes

A visit with Max

Dear Max,

Thanks for the session, and help with my walking. I UNDERSTAND NOW! I am sure that I will be able to pass the test to be given an official therapy dog certificate. The new short blue leash is nice, but not really my color (any shorter and my mom will look like she is walking a hand bag.) When people see me they will think that I have matured over night (but we know just how long it took :) 

I heard my Mom on the phone with you in the car on the way home. The new collar does not make me want to be "free", and run. She takes me to run everyday. She has decided  to leave it off so I can really let loose.

You see, Max she is doing this for herself. Every second that she watches me run she is free too. I can see her living in a happy moment, because she is smiling at me.

It's very cool to see her think of nothing but me.


I'm a lucky dog.

Tobes

Cole and Molly

Dear Max,

It's a good thing I go to the York College, because I'm picking up a lot of friends. I guess that is what college is for ? This morning I met Cole, a black sixteen year old lab. His mother did not think I would learn much from him because of his passive nature. He was a comfort, and relief to me, and calmed me down. Just his being himself was good enough for me.

An hour later I had a "play date" with Molly. Her mother told me right away that she was a "Diva". This was a new word to my floppy ears. We were unleashed on a gated base ball field. I wanted to be close to Molly, but she would not make eye contact with me. I ran laps around the diamond...."Look at me Molly". She ignored me.I ran in the opposite direction faster, faster. "Molly I'm over here check me out!" Nothing. I cantered down the middle of the field. "How about this?" Still no response. My mother looked quite puzzled.

Max, this female bitch wanted nothing to do with me today. But it's ok I do have another life that gives me purpose. Next month I will be taking a test so I will be an official therapy dog. I have been in training for five months. When I get my certificate will you join me for a wheat beer?

Tobes

Moshe

Dear Max,

I'm going crazy! I made another dog friend today, and his name is Moshe. He is a ....you guest it a Chihuahua mix. His father met my mother and I across the street from the York College. Moshe is very tiny, and he has no manners. I heard his father rescued him from a dog shelter. His father carried him across the street, because their were  many cars driving too fast. They almost caused an accident as people were rubber necking looking at the two of them. Michael is six feet and five inches tall, while Moshe weighs maybe five pounds after eating dinner. The two of them create a picture. Michael being the ornate frame, and Moshe on a peddle stool.

Walking, or trying to was a new experience. Moshe's leash extends fifteen feet in front of his father. I must walk next to my mother, because she is the boss.

 Towards the end of the walk Moshe's leash was reeled in and mine was relaxed so a compromise was made.



All you need is love.

Tobes