Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Scooby, Middle Name Doo

Superman had Lex Luther; Sherlock Holmes had Moriarity. My current nemesis is Scooby, middle name Doo. The connection I have with our dog of two months is a classic love/hate relationship. When our puggle is sleeping, curled up somewhere, I love him. The moment his little bug eyes open, the affection decreases substantially.

I have tried. Lord knows I have tried. It has taken hours to train him and house- break him and convince him that we will not leave him chained up for hours at a time in a garage like his former owners. I have made the effort. At times I feel his little paws are inching into my heart. But then, he does something. Like the other day.

Noah was at school and John was at work. I walked into the living room and saw Scooby on top of our couch lying on a big cushion. This is a usual spot for him. But he seemed to be burrowing.

“Scooby, what are you doing?”

His head swiveled around quickly and he hopped down and ran to me. His eyes spoke.

“Hi, Robbie. I wasn’t doing anything. Food? Huh? Food? Do you have food?”

Something hung down from the corner of his mouth.

“Scooby, what is that?” I bent to get it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Robbie. Food? Huh? Anything?”

It was a piece of stuffing from a cushion. (See picture above - the white stuffing hanging from his mouth is evidence sample A)


The dog ran off and I went to inspect the scene of the crime. I have watched CSI so I looked at the hole in the corner of the cushion and I glanced over to inspect the size of the dog’s mouth as he sat cowering in the corner.

Perfect match.

“Scooby, no!”

I walked over to him and picked him up and took him to the hole in the cushion.

“No. No chewing, you freak!”

He hopped out of my arms and ran to the corner. I scowled at him and his eyes spoke words from the Bill Murray movie, “What about Bob?”

“Robbie, I need. I need. I need love….and food. Huh? Anything?”

I shook my head in disgust and decided what any slightly crazy woman would do at this point. I would give my dog the silent treatment. That would show him.

Ignoring Scooby was easy at first. When the two of us are alone at home, he is kind of like my stalker and this particular afternoon was no different. If I went to a different room, his little paws followed. But on this day I did not acknowledge the puggle. I really think it was getting to him. When I sat down to write, he assumed his usual position of curling up with his head on one of my feet.

I moved my foot. Yes, I definitely was letting him know what was what.

Scooby got the point. He looked up at me, his little eyes full of doggy sadness.


“I have nothing for you, you couch chewing, cushion eating freak.”

Scooby left the room and went outside on the patio.

I felt a bit victorious, but soon my passive aggressive craziness faded.

Forgiveness began. Scooby was sitting in the swing when I walked out on the porch. His head swiveled.

“Hi Robbie. I’m so glad you’re here. Food? Huh? Anything?”

I sat and down and we began to swing together, crazy dog owner and little puggle freak.

I remembered the moment when we first met Scooby at the Dumb Friends League. We were considering adopting him or one of two other puggles. Noah was set on Scooby the minute he saw the dog. I just didn’t know.

I sat in the little office where they put us to get to know Scooby and I prayed.

“God, please let me know if this is the dog for us. Or let him do something like bite Noah so I know it isn’t the dog for us.”

Yes, I am a little insane.

I watched Noah and the puggle together. They were both in perfect joy, playing with each other like two little boys, best friends already. Scooby suddenly looked at me for the first time. His eyes spoke.

“Hi, I’m Scooby…I like the boy. Do you want me? Do you have food? Huh? Anything?”

No lightning bolt or even a soft voice in the wind, but I knew that God answered my prayer when I saw the little freak’s eyes. Iknew God wanted to give Noah a gift of joy in a little puggle. Sometimes, I have to look hard to see the joy, but it is there, wagging its tail.

As we swung together, my hand found its way to Scooby’s head. I honestly hate this little mongrel.

His eyes closed as I petted his puggle head.

But sometimes, I love him.


Jan Parrish said...

That little rascal! Gotta love him.

cj marley said...

Robadob, still love your stuff.

Pam W said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Pam W said...

Great story. You know you love him dont you?????? hahahahaha

avid reader said...

hahaha!! you will be a dog lover one day!! i can feel it from this story!

good color change on the page. it's easier to read

FireChaser said...

Momma Kitty liked the story! She says to tell you she'd NEVER do something bad!!

tonya said...

Robbie, you are too funny! Giving him the silent treatment, classic!

julie benitez said...

I know it's a good read if it gets me laughin out loud. I was crackin up "feeling" the whole love/hate doggie experience. Good job! julie b.