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Sunday, August 9, 2015

Position Opening--Best Dog in the Universe

August 9, 2015

If you go to the search box for this blog and type in "Willie,"  the first post that pops up will return:
Actually, the trip worked out just fine. Willie only ate a little woodwork around the kitchen bar area and Davis's second flip flop. He was not arrested, detained, incarcerated, nor did he become a ward of the state in our absence.
The second:
As you know, I had to do something about Willie. He doesn't chew stuff as often or as thoroughly as he used to (at one time I compiled this list of Willie Treats that he helped himself to), and in fact, the only materially important ...
And most entries that I mention Willie in prior to 2011 or 2012 are some variations on this theme:
Good call. We made it home, and I exercised The Wildman while Erin did her homework. Today Willie had only eaten about six mouthfuls of the bathroom cabinets, so I declared it a training victory.
Or this one:
Those of you who follow the Willie angle (DO NOT EVER, EVEN FOR A MOMENT, SWITCH THE "l" and the "e" IN THE PRECEDING WORD) are probably wondering what he did in our absence.
Or this one:
I had considered an entry organized around the theme, "Can Dogs Go to Hell?" in the aftermath of finding that Willie had eaten my Bible last week, but decided that weighty theological questions were out of place in an entry
I believe I once said:
Willie (named for William Marsh Rice) is a 10 month old Rhodesian ridgeback, lab, terrier mix. He brings the worst qualities of those three breeds and packages them in a 60 pound puppy body.  

But all that was in the first half decade or so of his life when he was still a puppy (an increasingly old puppy).  Later he became more attached to us.  Less willful.  Less destructive.  More lovey-dovey.  More companionable and obedient.  Recently, Walter has taken to calling him the "Best Dog in the Universe."  

It's probably best that you don't think about that too much because you really don't want to consider what that says about the state of academics. . . if one of the most prominent historians in the state can morph Will from "Wildman" to "Best" in any category that doesn't involve chasing, chewing, or general mischief or mayhem making.

Still, even I have been noticing that he wasn't providing that much fodder for the blog anymore.  

That is, until today when we came home from church and lunch and found the miniblinds in our bedroom scroodled and scrunched in three different places and dog pee on the window sill.



So now, apparently we have an opening at the top.  Qualified candidates are invited to submit their CV's for Best Dog in the Universe.  Dogs that climb and balance on foot stools to pee on window sills when taunted by naughty squirrels need not apply.

4 comments:

  1. Apparently I have the best dog in the universe, at least according to my mother. She is crate trained, potty trained, and she comes back to me, and I've only had her for a month. There is a fire station behind my apartment, and we go out there and I throw the ball and that kind of doggie stuff. Sometimes she gets a wild hair and will do laps around me really fast. Today she took off, and next thing I knew she was out of sight - so I started walking faster to go find her, next thing I knew she came flying around my building and back to me. According to my mother, she is the best dog ever. This Thursday, though, she goes off to my friend O's for a week because I have to go to Oregon for a quick trip - it will be interesting to see if I come back to a similarly best dog ever.

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    Replies
    1. Brooke, You deserve to have the Best Dog in the Universe. Willie is willing to hand the crown over.

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  2. Vickie,

    Those dogs of ours are quite the (joyful) challenge, aren't they? Loved this post. We dog lovers really "get" each other.

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  3. Oh, I'm so relieved - I was afraid that the "opening" meant that Willie had passed on. So glad that was not the case. AND just FYI, our Star (7-year-old Yellow Lab puppy) also ate MY Bible. Yeah - the one I've had for years and years. The one I paid $65 to have re-covered in real leather a few years back so I wouldn't lose all my notes in the margins. THAT one. Sigh... and yet, we still love her! Thanks for the chuckle. Signed, Jenny (the Giraffe-Lady)

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