The Other Woman

March 21, 2011

I just realized that I haven't written about Coach in a while--and some of you guys are dog people.

In case you don't know about Coach, he's our ten-month old German Shorthaired Pointer. His full kennel name is Heeza Royal Coachman, but I like to call him AAHHHHHNOYOUDIDN'TJUSTDOTHAT!!!!!

He's up to seventy pounds, he's got brown and white polka dots, and that's totally not his toy:


This wasn't his toy either. It was mine. From 1980:


And let me tell you, Maggie was ready to bite a tail when she came across this one:


Now that I've gotten all of that out of the way, I've got to admit that Coach is an exceptional dog.

When he's around Jared.

Because they're in love.

Romantically, I mean.

Two or so months ago, Coach and I hit our limit. I don't remember what he chewed up or pooped in, but it must have been unbelievably important, because I hefted all seventy pounds of that dog, carried him into the living room, and dropped him onto Jared's lap. "Him or me, Jared. Him. Or me."

Since Jared couldn't make that hard decision--you know, between his beautiful wife, or the dog who licks the inside of the trash cans at highway rest stops--he vowed to help Coach become a better dog. And honestly, I'm blown away by the progress they've made.

Jared's been taking Coach to a special training clinic for hunting dogs every single Wednesday night. Being a wise and loving woman, I decided a long time ago that I'd never ever ask how much these classes costs--but if I had to guess, it's gotta be at least a date night and a cute pair of ballet flats from Target every week.

But who's counting? I hate new shoes.

These days, Coach can do all kinds of fancy things. He'll heel all the way to the bus stop and back with no leash. He'll sit, stay, and let you skip around the block without moving a muscle until you say it's okay. He poops in a designated spot behind the wood pile, and he does this force fetch thing with a rope covered dowel.

I don't know what the last one means, but I pretend to think it's cool while Jared makes me watch the routine for a million minutes in a row.

He's so good at his tricks....when Jared's around.

My days with Coach are more about chasing him into the yard next door, while he stands on top of my neighbor's snow covered RV and takes a long, slow pee. I've totally become the woman who's standing braless, in the middle of the street screaming, STOP! STAY! COME!!!!!!!!!! COME, COME, COMMMMMMEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dogs really bring out the best in me.

6 comments:

Morgan -Ing said...

Ug. I hate puppies. I think you and I have discussed this before. I hate puppies, but I love dogs. That's how our not terribly intelligent but never does anything wrong four year old mutt came to be. It's the only way to go.

Shauna said...

These are such vivid pictures!!! Thank you for the laugh this morning! I hope that your dog problems resolve eventually!

Pam said...

Bella and Coach would be such good friends.

Tara said...

I love dogs. I couldn't live (happily) without a dog. I like to think my dog is intelligent and well behaved, and compared to some dogs she is. However, I have come to accept that she does whatever I allow her to get away with, which apparently is a lot:)

Karen said...

I might trade you for a puking, shedding, scratching-at-the-furniture-til-the-stuffing-comes-out cat.

jadine said...

Ha! He made you a dis-mem-bear. He may be naughty, but he's handsome.