Harry was the dog you loved to hate. He was a large chihuahua with an attitude. Like most of the animals we have had over the years he was wanted and then found wanting. So he was a dog somebody paid a lot of money for and gave away for nothing.
Our youngest son wanted a chihuahua. It probably wasn't the best idea I've had but there have been a lot of not great ideas and you can't live with regret. Believe it or not, I don't regret Harry. Turned out the idea of a dog that wanted to sleep in his bed was not my son's idea of a great trait. So Harry became sort of an 'odd dog out'. I had Gracie and Max and was not welcoming yet another bed hog in. Well Harry fell in love with the hubby, Don. And the feeling was mutual.
Don built Harry a window seat so Harry could bask in the sun while Don was at work. Harry faithfully snuggled under the blankets every night with Don. Harry howled and rushed to greet Don when he returned home from work. Harry tolerated the other dogs, put up with me and hated the cats. It wasn't a match made in heaven but for the first time in many years of marriage Don had a dog that was his.
Harry was like the villain in an old movie. You loved to hate him. You almost wanted to see what awful thing he would be up to next. We found the problem with two male dogs that both wanted to be the alpha male that this caused pissing problems. I won't tell you how much male dog urine I have cleaned up over the years. How many times Harry snuck into my room and peed on the edge of my bed because he disliked Max intensely. Or how we spent a fortune in gates to keep the dogs from going into rooms or to keep them in rooms when we were gone, at home or otherwise preoccupied. I didn't have to do this when my boys were little. But I had to do it for my dogs.
Personally I loved when Harry visited the cow pasture down the street and found some particularly stinking patch to roll in. Then he would come home all pleased with himself and wait for Don to return from work. I would wait to, for that glorious moment when Don realized that Harry rolled in cow shit. The look on his face and the discussion that would ensue with Harry was well worth the mess in the bathroom that would happen when Harry had to be bathed.
So now there is just Max. In four short days our 'pack' has decreased by two. Its sad to come up the driveway to the house and not hear those voices greeting us from the house. Gracie, Max and Harry all calling out in joyous chorus because once again Don and I had managed to find our way home. There will not be a warm doggie body cuddling against Don tonight or shedding copious amount of fur every time he was picked up and loved.
Goodbye Harry. You were a cat hater, a dog hater but you loved Don with all of your little heart and because of that, I loved you.
Our youngest son wanted a chihuahua. It probably wasn't the best idea I've had but there have been a lot of not great ideas and you can't live with regret. Believe it or not, I don't regret Harry. Turned out the idea of a dog that wanted to sleep in his bed was not my son's idea of a great trait. So Harry became sort of an 'odd dog out'. I had Gracie and Max and was not welcoming yet another bed hog in. Well Harry fell in love with the hubby, Don. And the feeling was mutual.
Don built Harry a window seat so Harry could bask in the sun while Don was at work. Harry faithfully snuggled under the blankets every night with Don. Harry howled and rushed to greet Don when he returned home from work. Harry tolerated the other dogs, put up with me and hated the cats. It wasn't a match made in heaven but for the first time in many years of marriage Don had a dog that was his.
Harry was like the villain in an old movie. You loved to hate him. You almost wanted to see what awful thing he would be up to next. We found the problem with two male dogs that both wanted to be the alpha male that this caused pissing problems. I won't tell you how much male dog urine I have cleaned up over the years. How many times Harry snuck into my room and peed on the edge of my bed because he disliked Max intensely. Or how we spent a fortune in gates to keep the dogs from going into rooms or to keep them in rooms when we were gone, at home or otherwise preoccupied. I didn't have to do this when my boys were little. But I had to do it for my dogs.
Personally I loved when Harry visited the cow pasture down the street and found some particularly stinking patch to roll in. Then he would come home all pleased with himself and wait for Don to return from work. I would wait to, for that glorious moment when Don realized that Harry rolled in cow shit. The look on his face and the discussion that would ensue with Harry was well worth the mess in the bathroom that would happen when Harry had to be bathed.
So now there is just Max. In four short days our 'pack' has decreased by two. Its sad to come up the driveway to the house and not hear those voices greeting us from the house. Gracie, Max and Harry all calling out in joyous chorus because once again Don and I had managed to find our way home. There will not be a warm doggie body cuddling against Don tonight or shedding copious amount of fur every time he was picked up and loved.
Goodbye Harry. You were a cat hater, a dog hater but you loved Don with all of your little heart and because of that, I loved you.
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