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Saturday, Oct. 17, 2009

Carol Reiter: Moss made the most of the new dog park

This last week has been a hard one on my dogs.

It was especially hard on Jan, Len and Peg, but even Moss had his little world shook up.

First up was the opening of the new dog park in the city of Merced. We've never had a dog park before, so I wanted to go and check it out. I had to bring a dog, of course, and the only one that I could even think about taking along with me was Moss.

The other three don't like other dogs. They aren't aggressive, they just don't want anything to do with the rest of the dog world. But not Moss. He loves everyone.

So I packed up the little freckled-faced, blue-eyed pup and went to the park on Saturday. There were dozens of dogs, and Moss was delirious. He had found his nirvana.

It wasn't only the tons of dogs that were at the park that had Moss in heaven. It was all those little kids that had tagged along with their parents.

For some reason, Moss loves kids. He wasn't raised around them, and my other three dogs don't really like anyone under the age of about 30. I don't know why Moss seems to like children, but he does.

After about five minutes, Moss was ready to pack me up and send me back to the truck by myself. He had found several suitable families with small children that he was sizing up as possibilities to go home with. His favorite was the nice family with the toddler who threw a ball for Moss.

This little kid, who had quite an arm for a little one, would pick up the ball and hold it over his head. Moss would sit, gaze adoringly into the kid's eyes, and drool with anticipation. When the baby let go of the ball, it often only went a few inches. But that was enough for Moss. He would grab the ball, walk it back a couple of inches to the kid, drop it and wait for it all over again.

When this family left the park, I thought Moss was going to cry. But he quickly found another family, and he was soon sitting with a couple of pre-teen girls, showing them how absolutely sweet and loveable he could be if they would just take him home.

After about an hour of watching Moss be quite the social butterfly, I was ready to go. I clipped Moss' leash back on his collar, and told him to come on, we're going home.

Moss was having none of it. He threw himself on the ground, stiffened his legs, and completely threw a temper tantrum. I just stared, open-mouthed, at Moss. I couldn't believe he had it in him.

I finally got him up, and he grumpily followed me back to the truck, and wouldn't look me in the eye all the way home.

And when I got home, Peg, Jan and Len were appalled. They knew I had taken Moss somewhere, and they couldn't believe it. Len came in the house and promptly ate three bananas and a People magazine, while Peg went muttering blackly off to her crate, giving me the evil eye.

Jan was just very mournful, with her big, sad eyes accusing me of taking that rotten puppy somewhere and leaving all the good dogs at home with all those evil, evil cats.

The rest of the weekend was horrible. Even though I took Moss back to the park the next day, he knew the end of his time there meant he would be going home with me, and he spent the entire time worried about that. He tried hiding from me, which didn't work, and towards the end of our time in the park on Sunday he got desperate and actually tried to go home with a woman and her cocker spaniel. The lady didn't even have a kid, for crying out loud.

Then Len's life completely blew up. His brother and sister, Sara and Boomer, came to visit for a while. These nice, polite, well-behaved dogs have spent their nine years of life being smiling, happy border collies, and Len can't quite cope with that.

When Sara and Boomer came to the house, Len decided that I had finally lost my mind and wouldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't try to eat everything, he just sat on the couch and moodily gazed out the windows. He was probably pretending he was living with someone else, someone who wouldn't go off willy-nilly and bring some sissy-la-la dogs home to stay with us for a few weeks.

The dog that had the worst breakdown over Sara and Boomer was Peg. She came out of her kennel the day the two older dogs came, and went on a rampage.

Peg literally had a complete meltdown. She attacked Sara first, then Boomer, then her own mother, Jan. Lenny thought that was great, and joined in the ruckus. I was yelling at Peg, trying to get her to stop, and Moss split the scene, willing to leave all the adult dogs to their stupidity.

I finally got Peg to stop, and all the dogs to chill out. It was a few minutes of plain drama, and Peg spent the next couple of hours in her crate, glaring at me and the other dogs.

For the entire week, all four of my dogs have been upset. Moss has seen the real world, and I'm sure he spends his days plotting how he can find some nice, young family to go home with.

And every morning, Len is surprised and appalled to find that Sara and Boomer are still with us, and he spends his days in a dark funk. Peg has kept her temper tantrums to herself, even though she too wishes those two big dogs would just disappear.

But I know my dogs. I'm sure Moss' sunny self will come back once he realizes that he is really, truly stuck with me. And Len eventually gets used to all dogs, so Sara and Boomer will just become part of his life pretty quickly. I'm sure Peg will never, ever like Sara and Boomer, but she has to learn that attack is not a choice.

In the meantime, I watch my poor, put-upon dogs commiserate with each other and mope through their days. They tolerate Sara and Boomer, and Moss dreams each night of sweet little toddlers with sticky hands and dozens of tennis balls.

And I am enjoying the quiet dispositions and sweet natures of two dogs who are going through a tough time in their life right now. But I have been through this before, and so have my dogs. In another week, Sara and Boomer will be part of the pack, they are already playing with Moss. Give Len and Peg and Jan some time, this too shall pass. It has before.

Reporter Carol Reiter can be reached at (209) 385-2486 or creiter@mercedsun-star.com.