I’ve been a dog owner for a little over a week now. Having a dog is a big responsibility.
I just spent the last 30 minutes Furminating Zeb. For those of you not savvy about the jazzy grooming tools of today, The Furminator is a little handheld brush that’ll set you back about fifty bucks if you have a Zeb-sized dog, a bit less if you have a less-than-Zeb sized dog. It’s a rubber handled tool–the “furminating” apparatus is a couple of inches wide with closely spaced metal teeth that promises to greatly reduce shedding. Providing you are willing to lasso your dog to the ground at least once a week and get very serious (and sweaty) about the hairy business of Furmination, your dog will shed “less.” I’m not sure why this thing cost so much, maybe it’s the sophisticated engineering of the thumb controlled fur releaser which pushes the hair out of the tiny teeth, saving you the exhausting and time consuming task of simply pulling it out with your hands. It’s a stupid tool and I’m a sucker. I am covered in long white Zeb hair, as is my house, my car, and of course, as is Zeb.
Before the flying fur fiasco, we went for a walk in the humid 90+ degree morning. Zeb likes to mark. He lifts his right leg and squirts, he does the hokey-pokey and he turns himself around, and then he lifts his left leg and squirts. Yesterday morning I tried to get him to lift his leg on a Mitt Romney sign in a neighbor’s yard while I took a picture, but he wouldn’t obey. He may very well be a conservative. Bad dog!
Zeb is a lap dog. He is fifty pounds of fluffy love who wants nothing more than to climb inside your body and take up residence. He’s a cuddler and a spooner–this pooch needs to be very close. He follows me around the house like I’m his guru, as if at any moment I’m going to spray him with my shakti, thus revealing his true nature. He’s so expectant. I feel a bit of pressure.
I made the mistake of allowing him to sleep with me, and now my sheets sport a thin layer of Zeb. He’s a restless sleeper, up and down all night. Since Zeb has come into my life, I haven’t enjoyed a single undisturbed night of rest. I tried putting him in his “den” (a giant dog crate, which he abhors) overnight, but he just barks. This is the only time he barks, not when strangers come to the door, which is when I would like him to bark.
Zeb “marked” the curtains in our Arizona room his first day here, a squirt to the right and then a squirt to the left. Zeb isn’t fixed yet because when he was rescued from the shelter he had heart worms, was near-death, and had to endure months of painful wormicidal injections and crate rest. He can’t go under any kind of anesthesia until November. Nature’s Miracle spot and odor remover is a miracle.
My friend Melissa thinks it’s interesting that Zeb has many of the physical qualities I look for in a man: lanky, long (tall), longish wavy hair with a soulful pretty face. I don’t know what to make of this allegation–but I can’t deny it.
So he sheds, steals food, needs lots of attention, barks when I don’t want him to, doesn’t piss on command, pisses on curtains, costs lots of dough, and creates lots of new responsibilities and stress. He is also the sweetest beast you’ll ever meet. He is my dog, Zeb. I love my dog Zeb. My gift from God.