By the Beach

Uncle Dear Max,


You should have caught us walking today.  Mom and I looked like we were in one of those commercials shot on the nearly empty romantic beach at sunrise.  I  know you must have cringed at the one talking about "erectile dysfunction."  The couple is walking along the water's edge with their happy dog, both smiling, holding hands, with one hanging onto the dog's coiled-up lead as he runs "free" alongside them.


Well, we were not on the beach, and we were not in a pharmaceutical commercial on TV.  But I understood the feeling, Max. 

I was "free" the entire walk, and she had my soft braided red leash (yes, the one you carefully lassoed me with that first session) in her hand.  She felt very proud of both of us; I just know she did.  She was in control; but so was I.  

I spotted an old lady in the distance with three fluffy dogs with really short legs.  As I ran towards them to get a better look I turned and glanced back at my mom and I kept my distance.  They were well-trained and stayed their ground.  They were so well behaved I thought maybe you helped train them too.


Then a young struggling couple in pink T-shirts came by pushing their baby (also in matching pink) and I again checked back with mom.  I think I caught the signal to stay cool and I let them come over to me, and let them pet me. They said they had a chihuahua mix at home...another one of these, go figure!


A while later a sleek older greyhound trotted by real slowly.  His snout  was so long and pointy that I did not have to move far to touch it but I didn't have the nerve to kiss him, even though his owner said he was real sweet.  I am trying to learn to be more discerning.

"Training session" over, and time to head back home.   I decide to listen and "come" quickly ( no pun intended) when she calls (especially now that she's learned it helps to keep a tasty Milk-Bone in her pocket).


Tobes.

A Strressful Week

Dear Uncle Max,


Tuesday I was minding my own business dreaming in my kennel when I felt the whole house move back and forth for about ten seconds.  There was no noise and nothing fell over.  I yawned and went back to sleep hoping nothing else would interrupt my rest. 

When my mom came back home we went for a long walk.  She said nothing about the shaking but there was an "aftershock" and when the ground moved mom suddenly reacted and said, "Whoa...!"  We had been through an "earthquake" together...more bonding. 


A few days later another crazy thing...a "hurricane."  It rained and rained for hours and the wind was blowing through the trees out back and I was frightened and barked, but I had to go out.  

The grass was tall and the ground was soggy and  I had to lift my leg to keep from getting my belly wet and my mom said I finally peed like a boy.  I couldn't wait to get back inside and shake the water off.  

Max, I hate to be thrown off my routine by these "natural disasters."


I have been biting my bone so feverishly that it is starting to look like one of those fancy ivory carvings I've seen on TV (I watch too much).  I need another rest.


Tobes

The Salon Girls

Dear Uncle Max,


I am starting to be what they call "a regular."  Thursday afternoon is when I head to the hair salon with my Mom. The pedicures and manicures (I think I would qualify only for the "pedis" since I have no hands) take place in the back of the narrow shop. It is a cozy group of chatty women, packed closely together, always sharing something important.  Each week I see the same women that work there. Some of the customers are the same week after week; some are new. They call this their "therapy."  But it's not the same kind of "therapy" my mother has in mind for me. 


Max, this pampering is not meant for dogs. I get my nails trimmed in a truck. I am not a walk-in, though, because Jessey drives up by appointment only.  She's all business and just cuts my nails; no pleasant banter, no soapy dips, no one to sniff, it's all over in a few minutes.


But you would not believe what goes on  in the salon. The women gab and joke, as if they don't realize that I am carefully listening to every word.  You see, I sit completely still, and try to never let on by moving my body or my head...only my eyes.


On this day one of the beauticians was anxiously waiting for her workday to end so she could get away.  She said the last time she had a vacation was when she was five years old, and yet she still felt guilty about it.  My mother told her to ignore those feelings and to enjoy her time off or she would spank her.


She said, "Oh, I might like that!"  Then a quietly shocked woman said, "Shhh...Toby might be listening."




Tobes

Chihuahuas

Dear Uncle Max,

Once again she took me back to the college for practice.  But today, we were completely surprised as we got to the stream and saw a bunch of small dogs with pointy ears that stood straight up; they looked pretty much alike, but not exactly, and they seemed to be everywhere.  My mother stopped one dog parent after another and asked the same question, "What kind of a dog is that?" 

One lady replied "a type of Chihuahua," another said her's was a "Chihuahua mix."  Mix? What's that mean?  I know that my food is mixed ("for better digestion," she said).  Max, what does that have to do with dogs?


All I know is they were a lot smaller than me and that I wanted to make friends with them.  I tried with two who were hiding behind their mother's legs.  No luck.  Oh brother...what mama's boys!

All I wanted was some company. Max, I feel the need for a friend of my own species.

When am I going to meet your dog Holly?  Is she "mixed" too?


Tobes

She Lost Control

Dear Uncle Max,


We went back to the college campus today after a steady morning rain.  The air was cool, and small black birds were flitting all over the grass where my parents let me run loose the other day.  But with my lead off today I couldn't hold myself back.  I raced towards the enticing birds at top speed, and just as quickly they flew away.  Max, my floppy ears were going all over the place, I was letting my "freak flag fly." 

Maybe you know how I feel.  Forget about a graceful canter, I was in full gallop, I was airborne.  And when my mother called, "Come!" I totally ignored her.

At that moment I was no longer going to be a "mama's boy" (gee, I'm almost ten months old now).  She panicked and yelled and yelled for me ....Tobeee!  Tobeee!  I didn't listen. 

The lure of the birds was too powerful for me to ignore, but I did not lose control...she did.


Back home I was too exhilarated to settle down.  I felt that a change had come over me, growth.


Later on bedtime comes and I need to snuggle with mom on those cool, white, 600-count Egyptian cotton sheets that were bought before the spring revolution.  She lets me and calls me her "Pocket Pony."


Okay, okay, I'm still a mama's boy.


Tobes

Freedom

Dear Uncle Max,

Yesterday we took a surprise afternoon walk on the pretty York College campus; I was positioned between my parents and I was doing a pretty good job of staying just a little behind their lead.  It was a perfect warm summer day and yet we were almost the only ones there.  There was a girl on a blanket reading a book,  the creek was low and quiet, and the track was empty, but the grass in the center of it seemed to be freshly cut (by the smell).  

I was on a loose lead and (I later realized) my father silently let the rope drop from his hand.  I continued to keep pace,  not realizing I could move away from them if I chose to.   I was so good that a few minutes later I was given the release command ("free!") and I galloped toward the center of the open field.  With my floppy ears flying back, I was going really fast.  

Max,  I had been waiting for this my whole life and it felt great.   I ran and ran.

When my mother said "come" and touched her chest I waited a few seconds, looked around, and then responded, flying towards her smiling face.  It was magic; I knew just what to do.  

It is true that there was nothing there to distract me.   If there were other dogs or people it might have been different.  I will always remember my first taste of real freedom.


Back home my mother is cleaning out a drawer, and I am next to her watching quietly to see if there's anything new to chew on.  An old worn novelty coin rolls onto the floor.  Into my mouth it goes and I get away!  But she quickly chases me down, pries my mouth open, and pulls it out. 


Writing on the Brooklyn lumber company lucky coin: "TIMES WILL CHANGE...FAITH."


Tobes

Invisible Fence

Dear Uncle Max,

Sometimes when my mother puts me in my kennel to go out she leaves the noisy flashing thing on. Mostly I listen to people cooking and talking about food.  But today there was someone called "Dr. Phil" on (he was pretty loud)  and when she came back and swung open the door of my  little cage we sat on the soft bed and watched together.  He was talking about "building boundaries" with other people.  He used the word "fence" a lot, talked about putting a "fence" around "relationships."  I didn't understand "mother-in-law" or "working spouse."
 
But I do have a fence so I sort of knew what he was talking about.  Mine is invisible too. If I am not careful and move over the line it's really going to hurt me.  I KNOW my boundaries, Max.  The bald man on the screen talked about "where to draw the line."  I think I get it.  At one time there were little white flags stuck in the grass all around the house, then they were gone, but I remembered where they were. But when he talked about "Where you and I begin," he lost me.

Anyway, sometimes when we're out strangers ask my mother how much I cost.  She seems surprised, pauses, then answers, "More than a cat... but less than a root canal." 

I'm guessing this comment is about boundaries, right Max?


Tobes

Cats

Dear Uncle Max,

Today on my morning walk I saw a car speed by with a young boy looking out the window.   His hair was blowing back, and he saw me and smiled.  

After the walk we were back in the garage and I found a piece of old dried-up cat food.  I quickly ate it, and it was divine, just as I remembered.  While chomping on it memories came flooding back...

Two cats ruled the house before I arrived... I was finding out that I, unlike everybody else in the house, was supposed to wait to go outside in the cold to do my business. This became nearly a full-time job; out..in...out again... I became a bit confused.  Going on long walks turned out to be my other job.   My mother thought that leading me up and down the hills, allowing me to migrate, would keep me from being a neurotic dog.  But then you, Max, advised her that what I was then, was simply a tired neurotic dog.  The usual walk was so long that  towards the end I was exhausted and my mother said my front legs looked like I was swimming the breast stroke (all I knew was that I wanted to get home).


Anyway, walking, peeing, pooping, walking again, and just trying to figure out the two cats. Yup, that was my life.  Day after day I carefully observed them.  They attacked each other in play and I tried to imitate them.  It seemed easy;  it was always the same, they never deviated from their routine. Even so, it was entertaining (my brain being so much smaller back then).  One cat would bite the other on the back of the neck, and then that same cat would roll over on his back. Got me? They would never even look at me,  but I tried to do to them what they did to each other.  No luck; I eventually expected their rejection.  Maybe it's best to first feel rejection in the safety of your own home.


One dark wintry morning I didn't come down for breakfast.  My mom came up to find me still in bed under the covers.  Oh, how she gushed, thinking I was so adorable.  But as soon as she left I headed straight for the litter box..Yup, already-digested cat food still tastes amazing.  She caught me with green litter pasted to my mouth and the gig was up.  She was aghast and didn't understand what I did.  But she went to her computer and then quickly moved the poop tray onto the washing machine.


Much later, the cats were gone.  I remember the day... I was still trying to befriend them through the soft mesh of their carriers.  They looked right past me.


Oh...Oh, I'm waking from this puppy dream...I have more control now, it's time to go out.


Tobes

Toys

Dear Uncle Max,

Remember when you asked if I had toys?  Well you never checked them.  My first toy was  a thick multicolored braided rope (who said dogs are colorblind?) that my mother bought at "Tuesday Morning" before she even met me. I faithfully chewed on that for two months before she broke down (cheapskate!) bought me another one.  I guess she thought I was happy and content with that  one measly toy.  Her sister-in-law visited and was in disbelief that she had bought me only one thing to play with and shamed her into buying me another.


Finally, when the (yellow) snow was gone she came home with another toy. A rope of a different color!  A green and white rope that I overheard was supposed to taste like mint, my favorite (?).  What imagination!

Of course, I'm happy now since I have something else to chew on in my kennel (some people call it a crate while you, Max, rightly refer to it as a kennel) as I listen to Rachael Ray talk about "Thirty Minute Meals" for what seems like hours.

It's hot now and she becomes imaginative and daring and buys a pink rope toy with a face (there's that rope thing again) with a soft, squeeky, insidel.  As soon as she gives it to me I am so happy. I just know it's all mine!  I carry it with me constantly, and am protective.  A long time goes by (the tomatoes are now turning red) and a black and white soft, stuffed cow becomes my new playmate.  I walk around with her leg hanging out of the corner of my mouth.  She's toast.


Ah!  Today I was finally given a toy that I know at one time  was part of something real that roamed the earth.  It's shaped like a roll of toilet paper (one of my favorites) , including a hole in the center, but it is very hard and has an enticing odor. What a loud banging noise it makes as I drop it on the floor!


She's learning more me about me.  She threw me a bone, Max!


Hard to bark with a big fat piece of boiled femur in your mouth.


Tobes

The Two Labs

Dear Uncle Max,

Happy to report the barking is waning.  That new technique is powerful.  You're right, bad behavior is exhausting.  Tomorrow I will be visiting residents in a nursing home.  I have done this before,  and I'm not concerned because strangers talk to me and touch me every day.

I listen...

"Hey lady, you keep your dog on a tight leash.  Bet you have your husband trained well!" 

My mother just smiles.  

Max, did you train my father too?


How about this one...

"Could you please leave your dog to me in your will?"

 What's a will? and what does it have to do with me? and is this a good thing or a bad thing?


Once a lady picked me up and squeezed me too close to her body, and said, "I once had a dog like you."

What did she mean "once"?



Today I was on a favorite long walk (I like to position myself between my parents) and it was hot.  Suddenly, a pickup sped by. The magnetic field started to pull me at the sight of not one but two big labs hanging out of the back of the truck . The blonde was perched on top of the chocolate. The  breeze blowing their ears back, tongues sticking out.  I wanted some of that...


But I would have to leave my mom...maybe when I'm older.

Tobes

The Last Woof

Dear Uncle Max,

The only place I dare to bark is at home.  It's the only place I can let my long ears down.  Max do you know how I feel?  My parents need to be reminded that I am a dog.  

When I stop barking I then do a loud woof, then lower one, and then almost a grumble.  Max, I hear you know I am having the last word, or woof.


Here's an idea,  could you please send me a signed photo of yourself to hang it in my kennel?

Tobes

_________________________________

Dear Toby,


Toby, Toby, Toby, let them win once in a while.  It makes them feel better, and woofing is not what it's cracked up to be. Think about it. There are no rewards, and just cold shoulders. If you suck it up now there will be back rubs, extra treats, sleep-in longer.  No, No, don't go there.  Toby, forget about table scraps, you're way above that.,right?  Right?  Well actually you're way below that.  Remember you are a dog.


As for the picture, part of your maturation I believe includes water paints.  Maybe an abstract.


No I don't do sittings, nor cheesy back-drop photos.  But I would love to share a Guinness with you in a shoot.  Now let's see that would be in about three more years when you're over 21.  What was I thinking?...a Samuel Adams' Lager.  Now go chase your tail!


Max

I May Need Dr. Phil

Dear Uncle Max,

This was the roughest day of my puppyhood.  My routine was all mixed up because I woke up in the middle of the night and started barking.  I have never done this before.  It was dark and cloudy outside, and it looked like rain. My mother was trying to reprimand me with the figure eight exercise. It did not work.

As normal my mother went for her LSD (long slow distance) run, but she did not take me for a walk afterwards. She tapped her left upper chest (a command for me to come), and I did nothing.  I stared at her like she was tapping a a Star Trek communicator.."Beam me up Scotty.." (whatever that means!).

She left me at home in my kennel so I could learn that I would be fine in the storm by myself.
 
She later on asked a lady if her dog barked before a storm and she said yes.  She said her dog barked before and during all storms, until he was ten years old.. and went deaf.  Then he stopped.  Great.

Do I need Dr. Phil?

Tobes

I Lose Control

Dear Uncle Max,

Whenever I am on a walk with my mom at the first sight of any dog I lose control. I want them. Suddenly I am pulled into this magnetic field.  Ever felt this way Max?

Today this woman who I see jogging daily waves and calls "Tobeee"  to me.  This time she is with her sixty-five pound, five-month-old puppy.  Here I go again.  I want him or her.  But as I get closer the snout is closed shut with a piece of black leash.  I am going to have a hard time getting information from him or her.  Kissing will be impossible.


Suddenly, his or her mother is waving, and yelling at me not to come closer.  She does not have time.  Time?

Now Max, I have been around women my whole life.  Already I realize I do not understand them. I am okay with this.  

Oh!  Here comes another lady trying to walk her Shitzu Poo...think I'll prance over to them.


Tobes

The Salon

Dear Uncle Max,

My mother took me with her to the hair salon today.  One at a time woman literally fell to their knees to scoop me up in their arms,and I drown them with my kiss's. Hey, Hey, Max you said I needed new jobs, and experiences.  Once I was kissing a tall  brunette, only to walk by her two hours later and discover she was now a tall blonde.

I'm still a mama's boy though. I lay by my mothers side while she gets a pedicure for one hour, and never budge.  Along comes a girl who thinks it's time for me to pee and off I go.   Outside behind the salon  no one can see that I still pee like a girl dog. What I'm going to do Max?  Oh well as long as I can find my mothers lap in the midst of all these women I am ok.  Wheew!

I'm a natural player Max. I'm just being me. Toby.  Is my life great or what?  Do you think it will be the same if I go to the barber  with my father?  He's a walk in.  No appointment is made and they don't even wash his hair.

I think I'll stick with being a mama's boy.

Tobes  (that's what the girls call me)


Dear Toby

Now I know why people say "I want a dog's life for just one day".  By the way Toby peeing on four legs is much easier than three.  The older you get the more you'll appreciate that plus it eliminates the possibility of peeing on someone's new shoe.


As for dad being a walk in with your canter you won't be guilty by association.  Just keep your head up .  Life is good.  Go chase your TALE.

Be Nice

Dear Max,
 
My mother has me signed up to be a therapy dog.  Did she tell you what this entails?  She was told that being a therapy dog is not something that comes natural to dogs.  They have never met me.  I go to Starbucks, The Beef Shop, and the hair salon.  

At the Beef Shop a lady wearing a hair net and a white apron greets me at the front door.  I then go with her onto the front steps while my mother makes her purchases. 
I kiss her the entire time...."Oh Toby," she coos.

Look Max, I am really getting to be important in this town.  

Democrat's and Republican's adore me. I think I could kiss a Tea Party member.  

Maybe I am, and don't know it?

My mother is a nag. She reminds me, "It is nice to be important, but more important to be nice." Does she think I will be President one day? I do have a birth certificate.

Tobes


Dear Toby,

How about a nice suit?

Max