It was about one year ago that I heard about a dog no one wanted.
I was at the vet with Baby and BonBon for anal gland expressions (ugh!) ,when a neighbor of mine named Pattie mentioned a young dog that her animal rescue organization had taken in. “Bless them!”, I thought, I hope they find the dog a home. Then, the magic words were uttered: “It’s a Boston Terrier”.
Uh, oh… that’s like waving a crack pipe in front of a junkie.
Both Charlie and I had the same reaction: “We don’t need another dog.” I’m sure Baby and BonBon agreed with that assessment.
Well, we caved and went over to take a look at the little brown guy. He was handsome, energetic, and played with our two Bostons like they had come from the same litter. The vote was a unanimous 4-0, so little “Vinnie” came home with us.
It’s been a great year with Vinnie and we’ve decided to keep the little fella.
It’s probably not an exaggeration to say that our little man dog is the engine that drives the pack. He’s likely making up for lost time (those first 14 months of his life), getting to play all day and snuggle with those who love him at night. He has that gleam in his eyes like he’s won the Publishers’ Clearinghouse Sweepstakes… every time he decides which toy to pick up and tease the other two dogs with.
He blends well his packmates, as he is a Tug of War specialist Baby is a Fetcher, and BonBon prefers Keep Away. All three are Heavy Duty chewers, so we go through the Nylabones and Elk antlers pretty quick. Plush toys last less than five minutes with this maniacal crew led by Vinnie who likes to lock on and shake the object to death. I’d pay admission to watch him clean out a barn full of rats.
Vinnie has taken the place of our beloved, departed JayJay as the Sous Chef/Assistant to yours truly when I am working my magic in the kitchen. His job is to keep the floor clean of meaty tidbits, milk spills, and so forth. And, of course, to remind me that tasty items need to be sampled (by him) before being plated. Vinnie has never seen an item of food that he doesn’t like. He’s the Orson Welles of the pack.
One would think that it would be pretty crowded on our bed at night. Not so much, as our Mesquite bedroom features a sideways California King, allowing everyone to stretch out. Baby cuddles next to Charlie, BonBon is between us, about shoulder high, and Vinnie sleeps like a rock and snores like a hog lying tight up against my back. Smart guy that I am, I don’t hear the cacophony (from Baby, Vinnie and Charlie) because of the industrial-strength earplugs that I wear to bed. Without those appliances, Vinnie would probably be sent packing along with Baby (and, maybe, Charlie). I need my beauty sleep.
Vinnie adapted well to RV life this Summer.
He came to us potty-trained and that’s always helpful in a motorhome. There were a couple of “accidents” in the RV (and at home), like peeing from excitement when we came home from shopping, etc. And, another couple of accidents when he gnawed on the legs of some guest bedroom furniture when he first came to us. Since then, he’s been perfect. Vinnie is not a DIGGER, either, which is a must in the Manning pack: you dig, you die. Thankfully, all of the dogs seem to get the concept.
Our little male dog was quite a bit to handle on-leash when he first came to us. He was so frickin’ excited to be out and about that he would pull incessantly and come completely unglued when another dog appeared. The impression given (to the other dog and his owner) was that Vinnie was infected with rabies or something, practically frothing at his mouth to get at the other dog. Knowing him as I do now, his aggressiveness was really the excitement of meeting another potential playmate and possibly having a ”bitey face” session with his new friend.
Bitey-face, for those who don’t own Boston Terriers, is a game that Bostons play which looks like warfare but is actually play-acting: no biting, no bloodletting, just aggressive “shouting” and play snarling. Vinnie likes bitey-face a lot and practices it many times a day on Baby and BonBon. They are quite adept at it, having learned at the feet of the masters, Booger and JayJay. It’s all in fun, particularly for Vinnie who never had packmates to play with.
It took a couple of months of experimentation, but Vinnie eventually got the message that he must stay in his super-spacious, fenced backyard. We used a shock collar on him for a brief period, and once the little man experienced the Come to Jesus moment, he became a devout believer. Like the other two dogs, Vinnie could go through or under the perimeter fence any time he so desires but chooses to remain in his private domain where he has carefully marked his territory. Probably more than the other dogs, Vinnie uses the doggie door often to survey his backyard empire, sunbathe on the artificial grass, and act like a bigshot toward neighborhood dogs, trespassing rabbits, and the occasional Roadrunner.
Did I mention that Vinnie follows me all over the place? He’s Robin and I’m Batman. If I’m on the sofa, he will jostle the other two dogs out of the way to be next to me. If I’m sitting on a chair playing cards or working on the computer, you can bet that Vinnie will be right under my chair, ready to yelp if I get up quickly. JayJay used to buddy around with me like that. It’s touching.
Lately the little dude has begun to make a cute whining sound whenever he has a toy that he wants me to play tug-of-war with him. He’s also started to fetch and retrieve, something that he’s picked up from Baby and BonBon.
Speaking of the other two, they seem to really like their brother. Every day is a trip to Disneyland for the three of them: fun things to do with their best friends, new adventures around every corner, and plenty of energy to burn making fools of themselves. Accordingly, they take a lot of naps, and it is not unusual to see the three of them cuddled up next to each other on the sofa or on the guest bed.
Vinnie, the castoff dog, has found his forever home.