I see it everywhere. Memes about people liking dogs more than other people, girls trying to bring home multiple dogs, and just society's general obsession with dogs.
I am not this person. One-hundred percent not relatable. I'm not going to run up to your dog and pet him until he's almost fur-less and I'm not going to ask him repeatedly who's a good boy.
However, one day I had the opportunity to take home the cutie in the picture above. This was completely new territory. The story of bringing him home is one for another time but let's just say I found out he gets carsick. VERY carsick. I'll leave it at that. Marshall, yes, like on "Paw Patrol," is one unique pup.
OK, so I've never crate trained a dog before or even house trained one at that. Every few minutes I was convinced this small, adorable, polka dot puppy had to go potty. I would put him on his leash and we would take a lap around the yard and nothing would happen. I would try again in thirty minutes. Nothing. What I quickly learned upon his first night in our house is that he liked to potty when he's not supposed to. I awoke to a disastrous crate. This started the gag-packed adventures of Marsh.
It was no shock to come home to a destroyed crate every day. It never failed. And yes, I took him out to potty often. A couple of times I have come home to an empty crate, he's an escape artist part-time, and a destroyed house. Shredded trash and toilet paper, tanning lotion smeared across my couch and the half-eaten bottle lying on the floor, a chewed-up picture frame, and to top it all off he decided to potty on the air mattress in the guest bedroom. My reasoning behind not being a dog person, such as licking, bad breath, stinky bodies, jumping, and excessive shedding had nothing on what my Marsh did. Marshall has pushed me to my absolute limits and solidified that I was indeed not a "dog person."
Then one day something happened.
I came home and he had not soiled his crate. I praised him as if he was an athlete that had just scored the point that won the championship. I came home the next day and, again, there was a clean crate. The thought running through my head was could this be the end of my suffering? Turns out it was.
This has completely changed our relationship. He is now MY dog who I love immensely. He is now the dog that snuggles with me, plays fetch, gives a protective bark when he hears something and is a companion. He can still be a handful and occasionally likes to leave the yard for adventures that cause me to have a heart attack, but he has taught me the qualities of a good person. He has taught me patience and forgiveness. His personality is one of a kind.
And even though I still won't break down the doors of PetSmart just to see the dogs, I love mine and I will probably ask yours who's a good boy.
