Jake!

Let me just start by saying that I am not one of those people who take their dogs for a doggie pedi, mani or massage. I don't buy him doggie sweaters or leather jackets or Halloween costumes. I don't put him in a doggie purse and take him along to the mall or to red carpet galas. Well, okay, so I would need a purse the size of a 50-gallon barrel to put a 120 pound dog in and I've never been invited to a red carpet gala of anything, but that's not the point. What I'm saying is that I don't do Paris Hilton kind of things for my dog ever ***. But still he is not a deprived dog. On the contrary, he is a beloved, doted on and spoiled rotten dog. Just in a little more down-to-earth, traditional man-dog relationship kind of way. With one exception. I celebrate his birthday! So today I say, Yay, for Jake!

(***I so totally would go Paris Hilton on my dog and take him to get a pedi/mani/massage and buy him doggie sweaters and leather jackets, except I'm out numbered by people in my family who absolutely forbid me to turn the dog "gay" --- their word, not mine--- or they'll never walk the dog or be anywhere near the dog. Not fair!)

(**** Yes, I'm allowed to celebrate the doggie's birthday. Although other members of this family are total traditionalists when it comes to man-dog relationship and think it's weird to put a birthday hat on a dog, and give him birthday presents, they know they have to humor me in my silliness now and again or I'll get crabby.)

Today, October 24, is Jakester Meister Super Hyper's 6th birthday! And that is really his name ---nothing to do with being either a traditionalist or a frivolously silly member of this family. We call him Jake for short. His sire (dad) is named Golden Hunter Biscuit which is a nice enough name for a pure bred labrador retriever, and his dam (mom) is named Destiny's Maximum Overdrive. So Jake's name is in keeping with his pure-bred dog family tradition. One grampa is named Hightest Jakester and the other is Elliott Maxwell King of Spaids. I'm not making these names up. I swear! I took them right out of Jake's pedigree chart, the one the breeder gave us to justify the $$$ he was charging for baby Jake.

The $$$, however, has nothing to do with why my husband likes to say that Jake is his enormous deposit in the emotional bank account. That's just what we say in our family when we do nice things for other family members. We're depositing into the emotional bank account. That is so when we do something idiotic or hurtful, there is enough in the bank account to buy understanding and forgiveness. For example, if you are a teen-ager and you vacuum the stairs without being told, or remember to hang wet towels after you're done in the bathroom, then maybe if you take Dad's car because you forgot to put gas in your own car, just maybe he won't get ticked off when he finds out his car is gone because there's going to be enough "good-deeds" funds in the bank account to cover your stupidity. Anyway---

So I was saying that my husband considers buying Jake and actually allowing us to have a dog in the house his all-time big deposit in the family emotional bank account. You see, my husband was not (past tense!) a dog-person. He grew up in a family that never had dogs. He thought that dogs are dirty, yucky creatures who slobber and shed all over and turns the carpeting into bacteria-breeding farm (actually, he still does). I didn't really know this until after we got married. I, on the other hand, am a real dog-loving person. I grew up in a family that owned, loved and played with dogs and thought that being slobbered on by a stinky creature is no big deal as long as it's someone you love stinking up and slobbering all over you. Yes, I was raised to be a faithful wife- -- er, dog-owner. Meanwhile, my husband hated dogs and for the longest time absolutely refused to have a dog.

Needless to say, my husband eventually had a change of heart. This absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that I brainwashed our children took after me and started bugging daddy for a dog. Ha! He bought a dog on his own accord, and ensconced himself us the best Daddy and Husband in the whole wide world. There is a long, but tender story about the day we got Jake and I'll post about that close to Christmas time, but right now I will just say that getting a dog is my husband's way of telling me he loves me. And miracle of miracles, he now loves that dog, too. In return, Jake regards Daddy as his favorite human. He knows and treats Daddy as the leader of the pack, and is absolutely loyal to him. I am so glad that Jake won my husband's heart fast because Jake had done so many naughty things when he was a puppy that any Daddy who loved him less would have taken him back to the breeder or left him at the pound.

Like the day we came home and there was snow all over our living room except it wasn't snow but the filler material in our couch which Jake ripped apart scattering the filler material all over the first floor of the house. I got a new couch out of that ordeal while Daddy got high blood pressure. Or the time we noticed our backyard plants were dying and found that our automatic sprinkling system had been chewed up and ripped apart by the one and only Jake costing us hundreds of dollars to repair. Actually, Jake came very close to going to the pound that day, except Daddy could not resist his puppy dog eyes.

I have to say that Jake's staying power is due to the fact that he more than makes up for all the grief he causes by being the source of absolute cuteness and entertainment. After all, how many 120 pound dogs think they are lap dogs, and sits on Mommy's lap when he is scared? Yes, Mommy, 110-pound Mommy (me) with a 120-pound freaked out dog on my lap. Apparently, that's very amusing to everyone in the family except me. How many dogs get so excited about going to the dog park he hyperventilates and is exhausted even before he gets out of the car? How many dogs eat a loaf worth of bread a week because it's his favorite treat? And how many dogs know his letters? Truly. When I say to my son, "Will you please walk the dog", Jake would go bonkers with excitement like he's going to pee on himself. So one day I simply said to my son, "Can you W the D?" and Jake still went bonkers anyway and almost peed all over, proving that he knows spelling and is a smarty dog! I was a proud Momma!

The only thing not so adorable about Jake if I have to be truthful, is that he is the most neurotic dog I've ever met. He's scared of brooms, laundry baskets, vacuum cleaners, and step stools. If he sees you carrying any of these items, he runs as far away as he can from you. He will not return to the room until he ascertains that you have put away the "horror" object. Despite his annoying neuroses I just cannot help myself but love this crazy dog of mine. So my husband is right. Seeing that I cannot stop thanking him for my dog all these years, he surely has major funds in the emotional bank account.

Happy birthday, Jakey!