Monday, March 22, 2010

Willy, a teacup white poodle with little brown eyes.

Willy, a teacup white poodle, came into our lives rather unexpectedly. We were happy that he was not named Jean Pierre Lafayette, Bon Louvre, DeBois, or some such French name that you would feel like an idiot calling on those occasions that you needed to use it. We noticed right away that this little fluff ball had an above average intelligence. Since this was to be Willy’s third home he appeared to have a burning desire to please.
He seemed to understand anything and everything you said to him.
All those puppy annoyances were left behind.
He never peed nor pooped the floor, or chewed anything other than what was offered to him. One of the first tricks that we taught him was to retrieve the newspaper from the front yard. One day it seemed that it was taking an extra long time for him to return. When he could not locate his quarry within his own yard he had extended the search to the neighbors.

He knew that if he retrieved a newspaper, from his yard or the neighbors, that he would be rewarded with a doggie treat. In his eyes a paper was paper. He was easily trained to retrieve socks upon command as well. He loved to ride in the car, and enjoyed going to the Pet Parlor for a quick bath and trim. In efforts to save I invested in clippers. This would be mine and Willy’s "bonding time." Not having any boy children I had no experience but thought "how hard could it be?" The clippers did most of the work. So early Saturday morning we began our "clipping" journey. I read the instructions the previous evening so I had somewhat of an idea on what kind of "puppy" trim I wanted. Little did I know but the transformation would take nearly six hours to complete. The hardest part was getting the clippers in between his little toes, not to mention the creation of the cuff around each ankle, leveling each of his ears, and the all important " pouf" to his tail.
I quickly respected the "barber’s" trade. We took an occasional "snack" and "potty" break. Until then, I did not know, that dogs could actually "plead" without using words.

His little brown eyes met mine and said: "You have got to be kidding!" Willy was a true hero not running from the ordeal but displayed extraordinary patience with me. Finally, with no spilling of blood, Willy was done. To be honest, it was not a professional job, but not bad either. It was just a shame that it had taken so long. Next time, I vowed, it would be different. I now knew what I was doing. Willy seemed no worse for wear and headed straight for his bed. It would be several hours before I returned to the scene of the crime to clean up the "hair" mess. I picked up the clippers and noticed that the cord had been "chewed" in half! I had no doubt, as I glanced over at Willy, all snug in his bed, that while he was "sorry" for what he had done, it was "something" that he just had to do! As Willy hung his head, not sure whether he was in "trouble" or not, I realized that I could not punish him. I would forgive this slight indiscretion. He had earned it.

Written by: Pat Chastain
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