A Friend You Can Count On
Today is JB’s birthday; he is four. JB is a European basset hound, and he is a mess. Not that that is a bad thing, it is just his thing. As a European basset, he has more skin and more wrinkles than his American basset counterparts. He is also a bit on the lazy side, and like other bassets, can sleep up to 18 hours a day. JB was named after my uncle; I jokingly say it because they look alike. That’s not true, my uncle’s ears aren’t that big.
I have had dogs before JB and admittedly, they all require a little attention and can add to your daily chores. However, JB takes it to the next level. He is high maintenance and expects things to go exactly as he wants. He isn’t shy about wanting to go outside to take care of a natural calling at midnight only to change his mind about the need to go, leaving him with no option but to find a comfortable piece of grass to lay down and go to sleep. He can’t stand being left alone. It is as though it hurts his feelings, and he isn’t shy about expressing his disappointment that he is by himself. He loves to go on walks, for a while; but then he will stop when he wants, and no amount of encouragement will get him to stand up and finish the walk. More than a few times a week, my wife has called me to come pick her and JB up by car. I mean, after all the world revolves around JB and he is perfectly happy with that. It is like having a basset version of Garfield.
JB is a star when in public. He loves attention and adoration and acts like everyone is there to see him. He can stop a crowd and seems skilled at drawing people to him. I guess it is cute, but you can’t assume you are ever going to get anywhere when he is with you.
Simply put, JB is a pain, and I love him to death. Funny thing about dogs, they quickly become a part of your family and bring joy in ways that you never imagined. I don’t know if it is their loyalty and willingness to wag that tail, even when your day is sideways, or the fact that they never talk back, but there is something in how they connect with you that builds a bond that is real.
Most people are drawn to dogs and, as such, their life is enhanced. If you are a dog lover, you know the lengths you will go to take care of the little one. I have seen dogs in strollers (I was asked about doing that for JB and violently refused), dogs with sweaters and shoes, dogs who have their hair done more often than their owner gets a haircut, and I have even heard of dogs taking swimming lessons. Think about that, paying money to send your dog to a school to teach them how to swim. I am not sure what the goal of the class is; are they hoping to teach the dog a new stroke? I mean they arrive at the camp with a stroke already named for them, the dog paddle. I guess the class is to help dogs achieve something more than what DNA provided them.
There seems to be no limit to what a dog owner will do to pamper their four-legged friend. On some level I get that, but JB and I developed a different relationship. I began to feel like he was playing me. I know it sounds stupid, but his ability to get me to do things for him that he was perfectly capable of doing himself caused me to secretly consider how to outwit him. Think about it, I began assuming JB was having humanlike thoughts.
And then one day, as I looked at JB, I started wondering what he was thinking. Pet owners have all done it. We stare at our pet and try to figure out what brilliant thought is bouncing around their mind. It doesn’t help us that they tilt their head at certain words as though they are totally engaged in our cognitive thinking. We want to believe they think like us and feel all the emotions we feel, but just don’t have a voice to contribute verbally. I don’t know how much a dog’s brain is capable of, and I’m not interested enough to look into it. I believe; however, they’re smart on some level, but I wouldn’t think they could do my taxes.
Anyway, staring at JB and trying to imagine what he was thinking and why he was manipulating me like he was and what his next move was, I realized JB isn’t thinking about anything like that. He sleeps, poops, eats, licks himself and wags his tail. That is about it. Any behavior he demonstrates is more a function of his breed, not some wrinkled 50lb Einstein. Known as lazy, stubborn (more like obstinate), socially inclined, and even manipulative, basset hounds are what they are, and JB is all basset.
Chris Stapleton sings a song titled “Maggie’s Song” where he suggests that dogs have a soul. I don’t know how to think about that, but they do hold a special place in the heart of those who care for dogs. They bring joy to families, comfort to those who are sick, protect you, and love you unconditionally. They are a gift to have around, and the world is a better place because we have dogs.
Despite how annoying I find JB; I am glad to have had him in my life. His good far outweighs all the things I can say about him that drive me crazy. He is a good dog. Happy Birthday JB!
