Buddy

Buddy is a funny dog. I don’t mean funny in that he pulls tricks on the cats. He is funny in the way he expresses himself, and he doesn’t strike me as being terribly intelligent. But I may be wrong; perhaps I just don’t understand him.
Like most labs, he likes to have things in his mouth, and like other Great Danes I have seen, he likes to catch bugs in mid-flight. So if I can stop him from catching bugs long enough for a game of tug of war he will play until I grow tired.

We got him from a family that was moving to the other side of the country. They couldn’t take him along so they gave him to us as we had no plans on moving anytime soon. Our initial plan was to keep him outside – no exceptions. Our thinking was that houses are for people and dogs aren’t people. And at 120 lbs Buddy was bigger than half the members of the household.

A dog can get in a lot of trouble in the country at night, and since it was his first night at his new home Buddy was put in a fenced area. The fence is about five feet high and surrounds an old smoke-house which provides shelter from the elements. It had been home to Max, our German shepherd and arguably the smartest dog in the world. So I thought a dog of a Great-Dane/black Labrador-mix would be happy there as well.

Fortunately Buddy walked into the makeshift kennel willingly with me. I have since learned he cannot be moved if he doesn’t want to. I bade him good-night, closed the gate, threw him a dog-biscuit and went into my own house.

The next morning I found him patiently waiting on the front step even thought the gate was still closed. How he slipped his large frame out of there without breaking the gate I have never learned, but I was the one who constructed it so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.

He has since moved from his summer home in the smoke house and winters between the attached garage and the laundry room. This arrangement allows him to be closer to people.

Buddy is happiest if he is near people, the nearer the better. It is impossible to stand next to Buddy and ignore him. He will begin by pushing his large head into the side of your thigh. His nose is at the correct height to get most everyone’s attention. His signature side push, although annoying, is preferred over the front or rear nudge. Nobody likes that.

If pushing doesn’t work he will start nibbling on clothes. Thankfully his next move is not a bite, but he will emit a low, guttural growl. To the uninitiated he sounds angry and threatening. It is the same sound he gives me when the answer to my persistent line of questioning is “no!”

When I think it’s time for him to go outside for a break I will politely ask him, “Buddy, do you want to go out?” His first response is to move away from the door and toward the wall while staring at me with his head lowered. This wall stance means “no,” but I ask again to be sure, and for the comic relief. The repeated question elicits a growl combined with the lowered head and stare. If I am stupid enough to ask a third time, he will bark so loud that I can’t possibly misinterpret his meaning.

When someone is preparing to take him for a walk he will grab the leash in his mouth and start down the driveway on his own.

He’s a funny dog all right, but he’s smart enough to know how to tug at my heart.