The Mute Human

I didn’t think I would be one those people that would blog about their dog, but I am really just wanting to write, and things are kinda slow here on the home front, so here I sit.

This is Smokey. He came to join our family 5 years ago. He shares the same birthday as my husband, which is fitting, because he’s suppose to be Danny’s dog. Dan had a weimaraner when he was growing up whose name was Smokey, and he had hinted and begged for a weim for years, but I am more of a Paris Hilton dog kinda gal. You know..cute dogs..ones that fit in your purse and you can dress up in those retarded outfits you see for sale. I did NOT want a big dog. Finally, reluctantly, I caved and off he went to pick one out. He came driving up into our driveway with this gray wrinkly blob curled up on his lap….my heart melted…he looked up at me with the most amazing piercing eyes I had ever seen….my heart was soup..I was gone.

“If that dog shits or pees in my house more than 3 times, he’s gone,” I told my family.

“I really mean it,” I told Smokey. To date, that dog has had one poop and one pee accident in my house, both right after we brought him home. At least the dog takes me seriously around here!

We took Smokey everywhere with us as a baby. We even took him into Petco one time. I quickly discovered having a puppy in that store is much like having a newborn baby in your hometown grocery store. I left Danny with a small audience of people oohhing and gooing over our dog to get what we came there for.

He USED to sleep with us. Right smack in the middle of Dan and I. That stopped when he reached about 60lbs or so, and decided to stretch his legs one right and pushed me right off the bed.

Smokey suffers from Binge Eating Disorder. Late at night, when we are all sleeping, he paces the kitchen, almost like a crack head looking for a hit. Nothing is safe from that dog. He has eaten whole coconuts, buckets of Crisco, jars of peanut butter, countless loaves of bread,…anything considered edible is not safe. He also has a love for books and crayons. Not real sure what it is about the books. Every so often, once or twice a year, he will pick out a book and chew on the spine. It always seems to be a library book for some reason. Maybe he likes the smell? I am surprised we haven’t been banned from the library yet. The crayon thing grosses me out. At night, he goes to the daycare coloring box, picks out a crayon, and eats it. His part of the yard is filled with a rainbow of poop piles. Though this food quirk of his drives me crazy, it could be worse. We have read on the internet stories of people putting a roast in the oven before work, and coming home to nothing…the dog pulled that roast out of the hot oven and ate it.

His bark is SOOO much worse than his bite. He barks…obsessively sometimes. Our gasman is so afraid of him he reads our meter with binoculars. It makes me laugh because not only has that dog never EVER bitten anyone, he’s the biggest wiener there is out there. He is terrified of anything with a motor…lawnmowers, vacuums, weed eaters, rototillers. In fact, I am positive all the gas guy would have to do it carry a dust buster around with him and Smokey would run inside. Our poor back door has shown much abuse around the bottom from Smokey trying to eat the door because the neighbors were mowing their lawn.

Much to my families and daycare kids’ amusement, Smoky loves to howl at the fire whistle. In fact, he has cured many of my daycare kids’ fear of the fire whistle; because it’s so silly you can’t help but laugh at him. He starts as soon as it starts, and doesn’t stop till the thing goes off. It’s funny when he’s outside during the day..not so funny at 2am.

I was so reluctant to get a weimaraner, but they are such amazing animals and I think you really have to own one before you can appreciate all there is about them. My cousin also owns a Weim and they refer to theirs as the Mute Human. That about sums it all up.

Sometimes, I feel as though he really is. In fact, he could be one of my children-he’s a slob, loves junk food, hogs the couch, runs away from me when he’s in trouble…. I guess I have not caught my boys drinking from the toilet though…yet.