The Goober

When Tracey from rescue was first telling me about Hudson, she said, 'He's what we call a goober.' And, well, she was right. We went for a walk this morning--not far, the poor boy just had his balls lopped off on Friday. But this morning he was so full of energy, running around the house, skidding the rugs across the hardwood, that I figured if I didn't burn a little off, he'd drive everyone, including himself, crazy. So off we went.

Hudson is my first boy dog. So I am not yet accustomed to the need to pee on every tree, bush, sign post and upright unmoving object. He was dry long before he ran out of things to mark. He'd lunge ahead, coming up short on the leash, then halt and sniff, and sniff, and sniff. The neighborhood and world are utterly new. He starts at sounds, lifts his ears, wags his tail at people leaving their house to get into their cars. His tongue lolls. Like me! He says. Like me likemelimeme! Ilikeyou! Itsallsofun! I'msohappy!

But even at his most gooberish, he's got good manners. He will sit, although he can barely contain himself when he does. He doesn't surf counters. He doesn't bark. (He actually starts a little when Shelly erupts at something outside on the street. I told him it's okay, we've had her for years and we haven't gotten used to it, either.) He's a little prone to jumping on you when you come in the door, but is aware he isn't supposed to and can be quickly dissuaded. So then he just dances. He follows Bob and I from room to room and stands outside the bathroom patiently. He doesn't scratch. He's perfectly housebroken. And he prefers to walk on my right, which makes me think he's had some training.

The only problem so far is that he would really like something to chew on. We bought Nylabones--the super hard, good for dogs kind. But Shelly cannot bear that he actually have something. We bought two bones but of course, she wants the one he has. And when he has it, she suddenly attacks him. He drops down to play, but he's six times her size and she isn't playing. We pull him away, she keeps attacking until one of us picks her up.

Luckily, he just thinks she's playing. Likemelikemelikeme! But it means that all the toys are kept locked up, at least for now.

It's strange to have a new dog. He's adorable, my handsome new boy, but we aren't quite his and he's not quite ours. He doesn't know us yet. We don't know him, yet. He's a bit of a stranger in our midst, although a good-natured, well-meaning one. I plan to start obedience classes with him when I can. It will be good for both of us, I think.