Almost a poodle

Debbie's family had dogs. Debbie's brother, Mark, had a dog named Buff. While Mark was taking exams at Wisconsin, and Debbie was about 10, Buff died. When Debbie was in high school and college, her family had two golden retrievers, Deja and Bova. Mark, his wife Bella, and his sons have 4 dogs. They had another dog that was injured and died.

My family had a beagle for about a month when I was five. His name was Lucky, but he wasn't. He dug a hole under the fence and ran away. We never saw him again.

Debbie and I spoke about getting a dog from time to time. She always brought it up. I never actually said no. But I did ask where we would keep it. Living in the city, space is at a premium. It's a constant struggle to keep your own stuff, let alone the stuff needed to care for a pet. Debbie was friends with several dog owners and sometimes mentioned what nice dogs a particular breed was. There was a period of time when we would go into pet stores and admire the puppies, but we learned that pet stores aren't great places to get a dog. Debbie contacted a few breeders, but nothing came of it.

The Sunday before Christmas 2008, Debbie went shopping. She didn't buy anything, but on the way home she stopped at a fancy pet store. She asked if they had any standard poodles. She was told yes, but the dog brought to her was a minature poodle. Debbie thought the poodle was cute and she played with the dog for a long time. When Debbie said she had to go, the manager went into a sales pitch and tried to get Debbie to buy the dog. She said no, but when she turned around, the dog was ready to go, with fancy red bows & ribbons adorning it. Debbie put down a deposit and told the manager that she would decide by Tuesday whether to take the dog.

Debbie came home and told me the story. She already knew that she was going to ask for her deposit back. "I just can't see you walking this cute little thing around the neighborhood." It took 3 calls and nearly a month to get the deposit back.

City Dog

Marley was a year old on Christmas Day. He's an Australian Cattle Dog mix - his mother was a red ACD, but we don't know what his father was. I'm leaning toward German Shepherd, but I've also been told he might be a pure Cattle Dog. We'll do a DNA some day soon to find out. Marley is now 55 lbs., and he probably won't get much larger. At the right is a picture of Marley about six weeks ago at the dog run on 42nd Street near the FDR Drive.

There's a whole social scene centered on dogs. I'd pass the dog owners sitting on the benches lining Tudor City Place on my way home from work or on the weekend. Sometimes, there would be so many dogs and dog owners that you could barely pass. I'd catch a phrase here & there, invariably about how good or bad a particular dog was.

Debbie and I knew a few people because of their dogs. In fact, we sometimes knew the dogs' names but had no idea of their owners' names. Since bringing Marley home, we've learned that the correct terms are "mothers" and "fathers" (or grandparents), rather than owners. And boy, do you ever meet dogs and their people! I probably know 50 dogs and know or recognize their parents. And I can't count the times I've heard shouted, "How's Marley?" or "Hey, there's Marley!"

Marley is a good dog. He loves every dog and every person. He wants to meet and play with every dog he comes across. He'll try to drag me two blocks to meet a dog. We're working on getting Marley to stop jumping on people. He's just so excited to be alive and he's full of energy.

Living in the city, you learn to take the dog for walks several times a day/night. Taking two (poop) bags every time is a must, 'cause you never know when it's needed. You don't want to get a reputation for being someone who doesn't clean up after their dog. That just won't do.