He tried to run, but now he’s family
As I type this, our dog, Brick, is sitting on my husband’s feet as he attempts to put his boots on. It is a daily adventure, this dressing for the outdoors, when an oversized, hairy baby wants your attention.
I don’t even know how Brick became so spoiled. When he came here, we weren’t even sure he would stay, let alone have all of the privileges he now enjoys.
Brick was my mom’s dog. When she passed away, I brought him home until we could find somewhere else for him to live. My dad is not a dog person, and he was in no frame of mind to try at that time. My husband, our resident dog trainer, was impaired with a broken leg the week I brought Brick here. Since he wasn’t able to wrangle him, he didn’t see the wisdom of Brick coming to stay with us. I reasoned we could at least foster him until a suitable home was found.
The day he came, I’ll admit I questioned my own plan. I loaded him in the back of my husband’s truck and started to drive down my mom’s driveway with him. Before I made it to the bottom, he had jumped out. I stopped the truck and gathered him back up, and into the back seat he went.
When I let him out of the truck at our house only a couple of miles later, he immediately started down the driveway. I called his name and he took off down the road. Back into the truck I climbed, and off I went. I picked him up a quarter mile away.
I tied him to a tree while I located the wireless collar and set up a perimeter. We worked for days on his boundaries, and finally, I was able to let him off his chain.
When my husband was able to move around a few weeks later, he began allowing Brick to accompany him into the fields and woods while he was working with the cows and such. Brick began to run beside the four-wheeler everywhere he went, rarely leaving his side. The electronic collar became a thing of the past in short order.
He began riding along in the truck whenever permitted. (I had to fight him for the front seat.) There became no question of where to find the dog. Just call for my husband, and there he would be. They became constant companions.
As the weather turned cold, my husband began bringing Brick inside from the barn at night. He slept in the mud room near the wood stove. And then in the kitchen, which was soon followed by the living room. Now, he sleeps upstairs beside our bed. He slowly crept his way into our house and our hearts, and now we wouldn’t know what to do if he weren’t here.
Though, I think it is safe to say it would still be nice to have enough room to lace up our boots.
Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.