If you don’t own a dog, at least one, there is not necessarily anything wrong with you, but there may be something wrong with your life.
It’s been exactly 4 days since Max came to reside in the Reed household. It’s been 4 days of laughter, stern voices, shock, awe, loving and pulling, and adjustment. Lots of adjustment.
He is a pure and simple boy. He is not Iona. There is not one thing about Max that is Iona, except that they were both born “dog”.
I told him I loved him yesterday and that caught me by surprise. This beast of a creature that has upset my routine, rousted our corgi, and caused my dear husband to develop a vein in his forehead. He’s testing us. We were warned. The first 3 weeks are all about how much ground he can cover and how much he can get away with. Ah…new relationships.
So what do I know about My Man Max?
- The boy can fucking run.
- He claimed us as ‘his’ upon the moment we drove away with him. He claimed the house as ‘his’ domain the second he crested the threshold. All hail the king.
- He apparently thought the ADT man might be tasty.
- He respects Iona in an unnatural way. He gives her space and she chooses to own him in silent superiority.
- Taking him to the beach alone on the first day might have resulted in my right shoulder being yanked less than gently from its socket.
- I have now seen all the backyards of my neighbors. Many of you need fences or better landscaping.
- He loves bed. He quietly climbs into our bed while we are sleeping and curls up tightly in a little ball as not to disturb.
- I am pretty certain he would maul someone for me.
- He does not like vegetables. He wants meat, and all the better if it is still breathing. He is uninterested in my household quest for clean eating.
- He is an unapologetic voyeur. This is both horrifically disturbing and unfortunately entertaining.
- He and Jason are actively working on, “I am the man of the house. NO I AM THE MAN OF THE HOUSE.”
- I waiver between “this is amazing”, to “what the hell did we do?” on a moment-by-moment basis. Then he obediently walks up to me and lays at my feet and all is forgiven.
- He is a pretty boy, and he well knows it.
- Rescue dogs will always be your most loyal followers, especially the fucked up ones.
Hair of the dog. Battle of the beasts. War of the wills. Claim or be claimed. Dog.