The “Bad Husband” Chronicles

Just another day for you and me in Paradise

Mozziestar Flashback Entry, Year: 2003

Posted by mozziestarlet on December 29, 2008

The year was 2003 and it was two years before the husband and I took the proverbial ‘walk down the plank’ and became an official Mister and Missus.  At that time, the husband was living in a two bedroom apartment with his eldest son, and after giving it a whole two minutes of heavy consideration, the husband decided to adopt a dog in hopes to add a little joy and companionship to his routine.  Knowing that I had a sweet little dog who I carefully trained to not only be loyal, but incredibly affectionate, the husband enlisted my assistance in selecting the best canine candidate from the Humane Society to add to his household.  The trip to the Humane Society was a gutting one; cage after cage of precious little dogs who all want you to take them home with you and shower them with love.  I have to tell you that I think it’s wonderful when people choose to adopt or rescue an animal who would otherwise be facing certain euthanasia, but having to see this reality firsthand was not an easy thing for me.

So, we are at the Humane Society and I point out several medium-sized dogs that seem to have good temperments and no behaviorial issues.  Given that the husband is always correct and completely unflawed in his thinking, he argues that a large dog is best for him since that is what he ‘grew up with.’  Naturally, living in a two bedroom apartment with no backyard is a great living environment for a large dog that requires substantial exercise daily.  After no deliberation, the husband selects a lab mixed breed who is still just a puppy.  I take a look at the large size of the puppy’s paws and tell the husband, “You know, you might want to reconsider about getting a smaller dog.  This dog is going to be a giant and is still growing.  Not to mention, puppies require substantial training, discipline and attention.  They are full of energy and are a lot like babies in the beginning.”  The husband confidently replies, “Oh, I know plenty about dogs.  This one will do just fine.”

Knowing that the husband is as stubborn as a mule, I decide to give his dog selecting abilities the benefit of the doubt and keep my opinions to myself.  The husband then completes the necessary paperwork, puts the puppy in the car, and we head back to his apartment.  When we first arrive, the puppy is so excited by his new home; jumping, frolicking and sniffing every nook and cranny.  After giving the place a thorough look, the puppy then becomes interested in everything else that is cluttering the husband’s floor.  After only ten minutes in his new home, the puppy reveals that he is going to be quite a handful in terms of keeping him out of trouble.  I recommend to the husband that he purchase the puppy some appropriate chew toys and dog bed or crate so that the puppy can familiarize himself with his area and what is acceptable for him to play with in the house.  The husband responds, “Nah, I never bought my dogs toys before.  He’ll be fine without them.”  With this, I say goodnight to the husband and his new puppy before making my way back home.

The next day is a work day and I am scheduled to see the husband that evening directly after work.  So, I manage through an otherwise uneventful day at the office before signing off to head over to the husband’s place after work.  On my way there, I get a call from the husband on my cell.  He says, “You aren’t going to believe this, but I think I’ve been robbed!  I just got home and my place is completely destroyed!  I better go so I can call the police and report this.  I will see you in a little bit, ok?”  Naturally, I’m concerned and horrified for the husband and continue on my way over to his place.  After several mintues pass, the police arrive and the husband phones me to tell me he has not been robbed after all.  I’m confused by this and ask him, “Why?  What happened to make you feel otherwise?”  He responds, “Well, I noticed the dog is kinda hiding from me and has dirt on his face.  One of my plants has been knocked over in the living room.  You see, I wasn’t robbed.  It was just that damn dog that destroyed my apartment!  I’m gonna kill him!!!”

bad-dog

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One Response to “Mozziestar Flashback Entry, Year: 2003”

  1. Pine Saul said

    I was watching The Dog Whisperer this morning, and I was pleased to hear Cesar Millan reminding viewers how dogs don’t have all the qualities we ascribe to them. “Bad” dogs are not impish or scheming or underhanded or begrudging. They have basic needs they try to satisfy, and they react to stimuli in ways that we either reinforce or do not. For whatever reason, I thought he was going to be a bit more mystical about our relationships to our canine companions. “Bad” husbands are another story.

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