I saw my dog yesterday. The thought of it is still making me smile.
For those who haven’t read my previous diaries, my boss at my part time job at a Doggie Day care facility is allowing Nietzsche to stay there, as I am currently homeless and staying at “Interim sites”.
I went in a side door near where he’s kept. The dog in the first crate – a day care customer – was not happy that I was there. He’s a big blue Great Dane, and when he barks at me, he reminds me of the Hound of the Baskervilles.
I rounded the corner, and Nietzsche was doing the happy dance in his crate. How did he know I was there? I didn’t say a word… the sound of my footsteps? My scent (that fast?) But, he knew he was going outside, and seeing me, and he was happy, happy, happy.
I closed and locked the gate behind me, and opened Nietzsche’s crate. He’s in what the facility calls an “Iron Maiden” – big thick bars, the door held open by another bar. Because he’s been pretty awesome and has made several friends (and hasn’t torn up any bedding), he has a couple of quilts and a sheet in there with him, making it much better.
I asked Kayra, one of the people who works there, about him. She said, “He’s a nut job. He’s fun, funny, happy, but he’s a nut job.” Yeah, hence the nickname he shares with Sheldon Cooper of The Big Bang Theory: Professor Wackadoodle.
But even better than that – nearly everyone in the facility is now friends with him. They take him out several times a day for small walks and potty breaks. The Operations Manager told me that he gave her ‘kisses.’ He’s doing so much better than when he first got there.
When he first gets out of his crate, he leaps. Seriously. He springs up into the air, dancing off his hind legs. He gives me kisses when he reaches my face, and then returns to all fours, to set up for another leap. I yell (because now all the dogs in the area are barking at the crazy leaping dog), “SIT!” He doesn’t. I grab his collar, which doesn’t feel good for either of us, and he leaps again. That hurts my hand and his neck, until I get my hand free.
So I wait out the leaps, hook up the lead and take him outside. Meg is working a Pittie it the middle of the parking lot, with Ben observing. After Nietzsche potties I call over, “is it ok if we go over to the table, or will that interfere?” Ben replies, “Go ahead, this dog couldn’t be worse…” I walk Nietzsche over to the table – and he pulls, but he doesn’t react to the Pittie or to Meg or Ben. I sit on one of the chairs, and Nietzsche sits on my feet, turned to watch Meg and the dog work.
Every now and then he turns back, jumps up and slathers kisses all over my face. I even bend over and give him a tight hug around the neck – something a LOT of dogs hate, and something Nietzsche would have avoided, a few weeks ago, and he presses into me. Then I rub his ear while he groans happily.
We watch Meg and the Pittie go inside, and then watch Ben make a phone call to his aunt – the owner of the dog. I hear his words, “He’s broken… no, genetically. Not a dog I would own. Fortunately, he’s soft…” I wonder which words would apply to Nietzsche.
We sit some more with him on my feet, he lies on his side and then bounces right up. When we go inside, he drags me once more, shooting into his crate – he loves his crates. I place the locking bar in place, tell him to be good, and then head off to teach Intro to Nose Work.
© 2015 sheddhead – not to be used without written consent of the author, unless quoting portions of this diary on DailyKos, with links back to the original quotation