Tales of the Red Rocket

Well...I thought it was going to be a bitch. Two bitches, actually. Nope. I was sort of looking forward to having a couple of females to break up the overload of testosterone in this house. Instead, our new addition is of the male variety. An enormous male. An eight month old, eighty five pound, handsome, stud.

Now, let me start by saying I've never had a male dog before, and certainly never one of this size. I can't recall anyone I know having a male dog, or at least I wasn't introduced until after they were neutered. This new horse puppy, was not neutered by his prior owner. I've gotta admit, I'm a little disturbed...by well...his balls. Well technically, I'm not a fan of any balls. Lets face it, they're not the prettiest things to look at. Luckily, the ones I am around on a daily basis are covered up a majority of the time. Until now. This guy walks around here with his sack dangling around, putting it wherever he likes...and he likes my couch. You'll see how much he likes it later on in this post. Plus, the fact that he is not neutered helps me understand the term "horn dog". He really would like to hump anything with a pulse. That's not true...it doesn't need to have a pulse (there are some men I know that have these same standards). The "red rocket" makes numerous daily appearances around here. My sons think it's hilarious. All day long I am treated to the phrase "Eww! His pink pee-pee is out again!" Lovely. Then they reenact his romps. They will grab each other and thrust crazily while laughing until they cry. Yep, I'm living the dream here people. By the way, take another look at the picture above in the area that harbors the "red rocket"...he is getting ready to make a guest appearance.

The first night we got him, my husband ran out to the store and left him with me...alone. I'm not afraid of dogs at all, but this one was definitely a little intimidating. Plus, I wasn't sure if he would be ornery because of the move so I was sort of avoiding him at first. Then I thought, screw this...this is my house. He is just a big baby after all. I sat on the couch and called him to me. He came to me right away, tail wagging. That's a good sign, I thought. He gave me his paw, and when I took it in my hand he started licking me. Aww, he really is cute. Poor thing, he must be wondering what the hell is going on. After what felt like forever, I put his paw down and took my hand away. He sat in front of me just staring. Then he started looking at me in a creepy kind of way. Like that old guy in the bar that is staring at the group of girls celebrating a 21st birthday. He gave me his paw again and I took it for a second and put it down. He gave it right back. I went to put it back down and he put his other paw on the back of my shoulder. What the hell? The next thing I knew he was standing on his hind legs and I was staring down the barrel of the "red rocket". I pushed him away from me with both hands, stood up, and jumped onto the couch. Dammit, this asshole just tried to violate me! Then I took a second to look at myself and started dying laughing.

He was better after a week or so. The "red rocket" made less appearances and he seemed to be settling in nicely. That is until what I will now refer to as the "incident". All of a sudden he seemed to be getting mildly destructive when we would leave the house for prolonged periods of time. He would chew on a shoe a little, but didn't shred it to pieces or anything. He would rearrange my rugs a bit. That is, until this happened....

That is my couch people! The one I told you he liked to rub his balls all over, well he REALLY tried to make it his bitch. Now I don't know what the hell to do with him. I tried to crate him once and he literally destroyed the crate. He is all signed up for obedience training and doggy daycare (that's right, I said doggy daycare) but he can't start either of them until he loses his family jewels.

In the meantime, I figured I would take him to one of those chain pet stores and try to find some gadgets that might help me get him under control. I walked in, well actually he dragged me in, and I was immediately greeted by a friendly employee. She was nauseatingly nice while I told her about some of the troubles I was having with him. She informed me that the trainer was in and if I wanted we could go speak to her. Why the hell not? I had to practically drag him through the store because there were some other dogs there that I'm sure he was dreaming of mounting. Finally, we reached her and the first thing she said was "You know, a harness encourages pulling. You should be using a different type of leash if you want to have any control over him" Well thanks bitch. I'll keep that in mind. She then proceeded to ask me a battery of questions and every time I would answer she would start shaking her head saying "No, No...you shouldn't do that" After a few minutes I'd had enough of this know it all. Apparently so had the dog because he lifted his leg and proceeded to pee all over her shoes. Usually I can contain myself. I've had a lot of practice restraining myself when my kids say or do something inappropriate, but I couldn't this time. I laughed and asked her which aisle the dog treats were in. He was going to get some right in the store after that!

I guess I'm not a fan of being judged as a pet owner any more than I am of being judged as a mother. No matter what grief I have to put up with from this beast, I'm going to love him and he will have a happy, healthy life here with us. Anyone that thinks otherwise better invest in some plastic to protect their shoes!