We've had Wilson six months now. He's about ten months old. I think he might be trying to tell us something. Since we've adopted him he has chewed upon or completely ingested our shoes, socks, dirty underwear, hats, mitts, stuffed animals, my armchair, pillows, blankets, Lego, video game controllers, tv remotes, elastic bands, plants, shower squeegee, soap, books, homework, backpacks, winter coats, lunch bags and so much more. I've seen more colours coming out of his butt than there are in the rainbow. I once wrote a post on Facebook complaining about the time he'd gnawed on one of my John Fluevog booties and my ex mother-in-law commented, what an expensive dog you have. Those were words to live by, I now realize. At the time I laughed. Ha ha!! I'll soon have him trained him, I thought. I've had dogs all my life. I was raised with dogs. I'm part dog myself.
Those were just some of the NON-food items he's eaten in the six months we've had him. I haven't even mentioned the food items. People in the park laugh when I tell them about the things that Wilson has eaten. Oh, he's a Labradoodle, they say. They're crazy for food. Well, surely this is not normal. When we first brought him home, I took him to the vet for a check up. He was fine, just thin, they said. He needed to be fattened up. Well, I'm Hungarian. I believe in fattening up. I happily bought him expensive organic food and started feeding him six!!!!!! cups a day. Three in the morning and three at night. He inhales it so fast, he stands there gulping for air when he's finished because he doesn't breathe while he's sucking it all in. He's a canine vacuum cleaner.
Of course it's not only his food that he's interested in. I take him to our neighbourhood off leash park and let him run. What does he do? Nose to the ground he sniffs out all the poo that people haven't picked up and gobbles it up like candy. Gobble. Gobble. Gobble. I've never seen a dog go after poo like that. Surely he's not still hungry??? No. No, he's not. He is a poo hound. It is disgusting. It must be stopped.
Now he has to do it surreptitiously because he knows I don't like it. Of course that doesn't stop him. To him it's food. Food is good. Wilson likes food. Wilson doesn't understand why mommy doesn't like Wilson eating the food. Wilson is so hungry!!
I soon realize the only way I can stop him eating poo is to stop taking him to the dog park all together. So instead we go for long walks around the neighbourhood. But that doesn't work. Anyone who's had a dog knows that dogs need exercise. They need to run. After our walks I tried putting him in the backyard for some additional exercise and he discovereds digging! So much fun! In no time he'd dug trenches into the neighbours yards, on either side of us. Then he squeezes himself through and escapes down the street like a lunatic from an asylum, FREEDOM!!!! until some kind, judgemental neighbour catches him and brings him back. It's nothing short of a miracle he hasn't been hit by a car. Naturally we've barricaded him from the yard until we resolve the trenches but then he starts to hump my children. He runs like a maniac in the house. I couldn't bear it. I took him back to the dog park. He was so happy! He danced and wiggled and licked all the dogs and then nose to the ground he found and ate some poo because what's a party without food y'all?
Now I chase him when he's got his nose to the ground. He eats faster. I follow him around like a crazy woman. He walks faster, one eye on me, one eye out for poo. I bring a ball to distract him, but he finds poo mid-chase and stops for a snack. Sometimes I throw the ball AT him while he is chowing down (I usually make contact) and people look at me like I'm the crazy one. ME!!! My dog is standing there with your dog's poo in his mouth and I'm the nutter?? God.
Well, Wilson is still with us, of course. I've made a commitment to this dog and we now walk this journey together. This, however, is my release. This morning my partner flew to Halifax for his dad's 85th birthday. He woke up at 6:30 to walk Wilson before he left so I could sleep in. Wilson started bugging me at 7:30. In and out of the room. Up the stairs, down the stairs. Lick my arm. Climb up on the bed. Get down Wilson!All I hear is the click click click of his nails on the hardwood floor. Then he stands beside the bed and pants in my ear. I figure, you're fine. You've been out. You're not due for another walk until 9:30. I'm sleeping in, you bastard. At 9:00am I get up and go downstairs. There iss paper torn to shreds all over the floor. Some of it is my partner's seventeen year old son's homework. Sigh. Some of it, on closer inspection, is what's left of the box of chocolates I gave to my brother this past Christmas that he'd forgotten to take with him. A box of Guinness chocolates. Wilson tore open the box, he obviously laughs at shrink wrapping, and ate the entire 16 pieces of dark chocolate filled with Guinness. Then I suppose, in his drunken haze, he decided to rip open John's backpack and tear apart his World Religions homework. Who the hell needs religion, right?
