Selected Works

Craft essays, short works
Craft essay in October 2015 Brevity
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October 31, 2013

Tags: puppyhood

photo credit: Roberta Gale
This morning I stretched out in Triangle pose, steadying my arm against a purple foam yoga block with chunks bitten out of its once sturdy square. Then, I headed to the kitchen and pulled out a white microwave-safe bowl - the one with the missing corner delicately decorated with ragged tooth marks in the half-moon shape of a dog’s lower jaw.

My favorite comb has rough ridges on the handle, courtesy of a pup’s teething molars. My prescription sunglasses have creatively chewed arms which catch my hair whenever I take them on or off. The cushions on the sofa in my den have had to be patched with new fabric and re-stuffed with clouds of poly-fiber filling that , on one particular never-to-be forgotten day, covered the floor of my den like fresh snow at a ski resort.

These are the lucky ones. The things that have survived puppyhood of a dog who, as my vet put it, was one of those breeds with “significant oral fixations”. A chewer. A crazoid. A toothsome monster who I thought would send me over the edge.
But he didn’t. Because puppies stop being puppies eventually. They grow up. They mellow- at least get mellower.

Now Winston merely steals a shoe and prances around the house with it with a twinkle in his eye as if he’s got the most precious thing in the world. You can just read the mind cartoon above his head: Your shoe! I’ve got your shoe! Look whose top dog here? Oh. Okay. Here. Take it if it means so much to you. Now give me a treat.

And we do, silly humans, because we’re grateful to receive an intact, if slightly moist item returned in working shape.
Every time I take my sunglasses off and try to push those uneven frames back into their case, I tell myself I should buy a new pair. Aren’t I embarrassed by the tape holding together the edges? The way they sit on an angle on my nose?

Well, yes. Kind of.

But each time I take those glasses off, I hold history in my hands. Of the joyful, boisterous pup that emerged after spending most of his young life in cages. Of the patience and faith it took to stick with a young animal until he lost his taste for cell phones and sofa cushions.

I suppose some people think us dog people are crazy. There is a case to be made that dogs are shedding, slobbering creatures who can tear through a pair of Uggs in the time it takes to pull them out of the box. But they’re also loyal, loving companions who can make your saddest days lighter and your broken heart full again.

In light of that, a puppyhood of chewing seems a bargain.