Chazzie-Man…

Today, you are four. And you have been in this, your forever home, for exactly two years and two days.

Two years and two days ago, you knew Sit, but not Come, or Down, or Roll Over, OK, and certainly not Stay. You looked blankly at me when I said, Take a Pee, Take a Poop, Get my Shoe, High Five, Let’s Go, Speak!, Where’s the Ball? Have a Cookie, Let’s Get a Brushin’, Watch Me, Go Lie Down, Bye Bye, Load Up, and Chase the Bee (laser pointer)!

You didn’t know you weren’t supposed to climb into the front seat while I was driving.

You didn’t sleep on my bed–you preferred the cold, hard floor. You wouldn’t even get up onto the couch (how I’ve corrupted you!).

You trembled when I gave you a bath.

You got anxious when I left the house and scratched at the garage door where you saw me leave. A couple of times, you managed to open it, and I found you standing in the garage when I got home.

You didn’t like to ride in the car.

You were afraid of the cats and wouldn’t go past them if they blocked a doorway.

You didn’t know how to introduce yourself politely to strange dogs at the dog park. Your enthusiasm startled many dogs and freaked out some owners.

You didn’t know that PetSmart was the Happiest Place on Earth.

We have been to North Dakota and back, to Chicago for Thanksgiving, to the cabin by Little Lost Lake six times, to Doggiepalooza, to the Minnesota State Fair, to the Walk for Animals, to the Land o’ Lakes Dog Show. To seven different dog parks–usually once a day, often twice. And lately, you’re even going with me to work, when I meet with dog-friendly clients.

You’ve learned so much in two years and two days. I’ve learned even more–from you, my first dog.

And now you are four, and still very much a puppy in the head. Your meandering path to adulthood is typical of Golden Retrievers, who take three years or longer to fully mature mentally. As a male, your development has been even slower.

I wonder how much of what I know of you is sheer youth, and how you will change as you shed the last of your adolescent ways. Will you still wrestle puppies into submission? Will you still snack out of the litterbox? Will you still chew through my shoelaces? Will you still pull me from aisle to aisle at PetSmart? Will you still hop up on your hind legs (but not actually on me) when I come home? Will you ever willingly, happily heel?

We’ll see what the future brings and what I may write to you on the eve of your fifth birthday–three years and two days into life in your forever home.

Posted by Devon & Chaz on Monday, January 28th, 2008 at 4:22 pm.