Milly, the liver and white springer spaniel that lives at my house, celebrated her second birthday last week.
She celebrated by ripping the head off a stuffed goose toy she got for Christmas – just three weeks ago – and scattering cotton stuffing from one end of the house to the other.
She remains the most destructive animal on the planet. Fortunately, the good side has far outweighed the destructive side.
For instance, I don’t ever have to worry about being attacked by a real goose. Milly has declared a no-fly zone over our house, and she’ll stand at the sliding glass door barking loudly if a goose is spotted anywhere in the vicinity.
On our walks by the lake, she keeps the geese at bay. She keeps a wary eye on them as they swim. But she goes insane if one attempts to come on land. I appreciate her looking after me.
The truth is, it’s been a fun two years. Milly is a sweet, loyal and funny companion. As I had been warned, she’s very different from Glory, my first springer spaniel.
But she never fails to welcome me home. In fact, it’s about a 10-minute welcome that includes her jumping on me, running down the hall, around the coffee table and back down the hall, then jumping on the bed and repeating on a seemingly endless loop.
She sleeps in the bed with me. And so far, she does a good job of staying on her side of the bed. That is, until I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Occasionally, I end up sitting on her because in the short time I’m in the bathroom, she moves over to where I was sleeping.
Getting her back on her side of the bed is no easy task. It’s like picking up a giant boulder after a landslide.
She’s learned a few words. She knows “walk” and “treat.” She’s good with “sitting,” but “staying” remains an elusive goal. She understands what the alarm clock means. Almost too well. I may never get to the hit the snooze button again.
When the alarm clock goes off, she begins bouncing around the bed because she knows it’s time to go outside.
Glory didn’t like going outside when it was raining. When I would open the door and she would see that it was raining, she’d sit and give me a look that said, “That’s OK, I’ll just hold it for now.”
This was perfect, I always thought, because I didn’t like going outside when it was raining, either.
Milly is under no such allusions. She loves the rain – or more specifically, the puddles that the rain creates. So whenever it’s raining and she needs to go out, I have to put on the raincoat and find the umbrella. Then my job is keeping Milly’s attention on the business at hand, if you get my meaning, and off the puddles.
She’s not crazy about people when she first meets them. She’s keeps her distance and bark. She hates other dogs. I’ve got to work on her socialization.
But it’s been a good two years, and I love the little booger. So after I cleaned up the destruction of the stuffed goose, I took her for a celebration.
We each got a cup of ice cream from Dairy Queen.
She enjoyed her, and after she finished, she destroyed the cup.
