Living with a Labrador

I’ve had dogs all of my adult life, including my first Labrador, Bailey (I’ll blog more on him in future ramblings). Brodie happens to be my second time at this goat-rodeo of Labrador ownership, I’ll likely stay an attendee at this rodeo, because the breed suits my personality and lifestyle. At the time I got Bailey I had just finish a stint as a Hallmark seasonal employee, working a second job for extra money to augment my tiny salary as a dental assistant. For some reason, I was attracted to these jingle bells, they were shinny, and ascetically pleasing, and made some great filler for my tree. I learned many, many Christmas tips at Hallmark – that I still use today: how to light a tree from the inside out, how to make a bow, and general decorating tips & tricks around the holidays. There was no way to know the purchase of these jingle bells would be with me long into the future, and perhaps the rest of my life.

Bailey was the sweetest yellow Labrador you ever met.  The runt of his litter and comparatively when I see old pictures of he and his littermates, he wasn’t the cutest. By Labrador standards he was all wrong, his pink nose wasn’t acceptable, his snout was a little longer and less square, but he was what I wanted, so I brought him home – the night of the Olympic park bombing in July of 1996 (or some reason there are events that stick in your mind and are forever tied to news or historic events). I remember this new puppy crying and whining all night long, I laid on the living room floor with him, right outside his crate, and watched the news story unfold long into the night. Believe me, it was a long night on the floor but I was committed to a crate trained Labrador.

The seasons changed, the heat of summer turned to my favorite time of year, fall. Author’s random note: if you have never experienced fall in Northern California, I highly suggest you put it on your bucket list: warm days, cool evenings, colorful extended sunsets that paint the sky with oranges, reds, pinks and purples – just perfection! Bailey was growing, and turning into that odd mix that is not quite puppy, but not quite dog. Before I knew it my puppy was 6 months old… rambunctious, all puppy, and all Labrador. I was getting the Christmas tree ready and he was beyond curious: all over me, all over the tree, all over this new adventure. The tree was very stable, yet took a few tumbles with the weight and velocity of a 40 lb puppy as he launched himself at the bright shinny objects. A funny thing started to happen though, the bells would ‘tattle on him’ if he got to close to the tree. No matter where I was in the house, if I heard bells, I would know he was close to the tree. I took off running a few times, then came to know that just a shout from me would send him on his merry way, looking for new trouble and leaving the tree in his past – the attention span of a Labrador puppy isn’t terribly long.

I have placed the jingle bells on my Christmas tree every year since 1996. Even in the years when Bailey was the perfectly obedient Labrador who then grew into an old man and had no desire to engage a Christmas tree for the sport of it. I put the jingle bells on the tree – for myself mainly; to remind me of when he was young and rowdy.

I placed the jingle bells strategically around the tree again this year; 16 years later, for my baby boy Brodie Brown. This is Brodie’s 3^rd Christmas tree, and while I know he is hitting that magical Labrador age where the mischievous and rambunctiousness turns to well-behaved; he still cannot be trusted around the Christmas tree. One move too close to the tree and the bells start ring-a-ling-ringing! So, I ask you are they jingle bells or a Labrador alarm system?

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In the middle of a rainy Saturday afternoon Mark and I decide to start a project ‘operation purge the attic’ – pretty self-explanatory. We start the project in a rainstorm, that’s okay because we are perfectly safe and dry, but both garage doors are open for the additional light and fresh air. Brodie is distraught, pacing the garage floors and in general being underfoot – in attempting to make my dog have human thoughts – I believe that he is upset when one of us ‘disappears’ into the attic for a period if time. His ability for human thought is likely not true, I know that, but it helps me make him more human. Ultimately he gives up and sulks off.

After a few hours of this project we are all bored; my personal attention span is that of a small insect, so I was happy to have made it for the few hours. I go in search of our dog…Brodie is sitting soaking wet in the middle of the front lawn, just sitting, silent, and letting the rain fall on him. Rejected by us as we worked through our project, he has erected a shrine of toys – 4 or 5 of his toys are neatly placed around him, as soaked as he is. Perhaps it is in homage to the rain – which is a precious resource – as rain fills our reservoirs and is our water supply in Northern California. He sits silently watching the rain fall. I have to wonder again – what is he thinking????

I call his name, he turns, and his deep thought is broken. He selects a toy and runs to the garage ready to resume life as a Labrador. He doesn’t care that he is wet, he doesn’t care that his toys are wet, he only knows that someone is paying him attention and he wants to play. It compels me to step out into the rain with him and toss his toys a few times for a fun game of retrieve. I can’t say I’ve ever played in the rain before, and I didn’t really this time, more of a stand-in-place-and-toss-a-toy for my dog, versus truly ‘play’. But I didn’t melt and he burned off a little pent up energy.

It did serve to remind me that a dog loves life regardless of the circumstances or weather, the day doesn’t have to be perfect to be celebrated, and a little rain shouldn’t stop us from doing the things we love.

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