Oogy_ The Dog Only a Family Could Love - Larry Levin [36]
A number of Noah’s and Dan’s friends were afraid of Oogy’s rapidly expanding size and strength; others were annoyed and even alarmed by the manic energy he exuded and that demanded constant attention. A few, or their parents, distrusted Oogy because of all the bad press pit bulls get. As a result, the number of the boys’ friends who came to visit dwindled. When the visitor was someone Oogy did not know, he would get very excited. His favorite greeting activity was to bite guests at their ankles. As he became familiar with the visitor, his playfulness, or his sense of wanting to be the center of attention, would abate. Oogy quickly became as comfortable around the boys’ friends as he was with the boys themselves. Those of their friends who continued to come by — all boys with dogs in their own households, as it turned out — quickly found themselves the object of Oogy’s affection. After all, he could love Noah and Dan anytime and the rest of the time. It was not an unusual occurrence to come home and find Oogy draped over the lap of one of their friends while the boys sat on the floor playing a video game, or sleeping next to a boy sitting on one of the couches.
When Oogy came to live with us, for Noah and Dan it was in many ways like gaining a little brother. It soon became apparent to all of us that Oogy did not know he was not human; his bond with the boys made itself evident in incident after incident. Whatever the boys did, he insisted on being included; wherever they went, he wanted to go. When the boys ate, Oogy sat next to them watching them, barking at them for food as though they did not understand that he was right there and deserved some of whatever they were having. When the boys wrestled or had a pillow fight, Oogy threw himself into the mix. If they fought with each other, he would begin barking and jumping on them. When they played table tennis, he dashed back and forth with the ball, barking furiously, and when the ball hit the ground, there would be a mad, comic rush to see who got to it first; if it was Oogy, he would scoop it up, often without crushing it, just holding it in his mouth. If they were throwing around a lacrosse ball outside, he would race madly back and forth between them, following the flight of the ball and nipping at their ankles. When the three of us would throw a ball around, I was the only one whose ankles went unbitten. “That’s because you’re the alpha male,” Noah suggested. If they went outside to have a catch or play basketball or football with friends, Oogy would demand to participate. If the boys left Oogy inside to go play football or to have a catch, he barked and whined incessantly and clawed at the door, alternately pacing back and forth, barking and yelping with frustration. Eventually, we realized that the only way the boys could play outside was for me to take Oogy off the property for a ride or a walk. We learned that if Oogy saw them leave the house before he did, he would try to follow them and would be uncooperative about getting into the car. As a result, when they wanted to do something outside, I would ask how much time they needed and would head out with Oogy before the boys left the house.
Once the electronic fence had been installed, when the boys left the property Oogy would run their scent to the edge of the yard as soon as I let him outside and sit staring up the street after them. He would sit there as long as I let him.
Oogy simply had no idea that he was a being separate and apart from the boys. In his view, he shared his life with them, and therefore there was never a doubt that they shared their lives with him.