Oogy_ The Dog Only a Family Could Love - Larry Levin [45]
Reflecting the traits of his breed, Oogy loves hot weather. In the summer, he will lie in the driveway, soaking in the heat for hours at a time. When he comes inside afterward, he feels as warm to the touch as if he’s been in a toaster oven. He enjoys the snow, but he hates the feel of rain on his skin and will not voluntarily go out in it. Sometimes I will drag him out into the yard in the rain, hoping he will do his business, but he will just trot around the house to get back inside as soon as he can. During extended rainy periods, it is not unusual for Oogy to leave us a gift, ordinarily in some out-of-the-way location such as the basement or up in the weight room.
Watching Oogy interact with other dogs is fascinating once you know something about his breeding. His bulk and speed, the way he thunders across the grass with his powerful strides, make me think of a Percheron or Clydesdale running among other horses — if he were any heavier, the ground would shake. There are faster dogs than Oogy, there are heavier and more graceful dogs, but none are more powerful. He is a marvel of genetic engineering. He is designed to run relentlessly, and that is what he loves to do. He does not go after sticks and he does not go after balls, and dogs that want to do nothing else frustrate him. He wants to run and he wants to wrestle. And when he is running with another dog or other dogs, he never takes the lead. He always runs alongside the lead dog, just at or behind his front shoulder, and sometimes he’ll give the other dog a slight chest bump. He never tries to knock the other dog over, but something in his genetics compels him to make some contact. He will run until he is exhausted, collapse for a few minutes, and then be ready to run again.
Knowing the attributes of Oogy’s breed went a long way toward helping us understand his behavior and the nuances that were expressive of his character.
We’re used to coming home and finding Oogy asleep on the table in the kitchen or in the dining room. He likes to sit on the picnic tables at the dog park as well. I attribute that to the hunter in him. It seems logical that he would like to be up high to look for game. To give Oogy his due, there have been no jaguars or mountain lions in our yard since he came home with us. (Boars were never really much of a problem anyway.)
Oogy’s hunting senses allow him to be aware of another animal long before I can see it, and often I never do. I have learned that when we are out at night and he stops in his tracks and peers into some bushes or down a dark driveway, if he stands there completely still and concentrating, his ear up, looking across a field, another creature is definitely there, although in all likelihood I will never know what it is. Sometimes he drops his head and stares, motionless, alerted to another presence out there, trying to determine what it is, as though he is more likely to sense it rather than see it, his whole being telling him something I cannot know.
During his first couple of years with us, whenever we were out for a stroll Oogy would try to go after every squirrel or rabbit that caught his eye. This behavior was so common that once, when someone asked me where his name came from, I replied, “It’s Elvish for ‘squirrel’s bane.’” He never did catch anything. The breeding leaves him relentless, though. There are some chipmunks that live in the foundation of our patio. On a number of occasions, Oogy has stood out there and barked at them incessantly. Passersby would see a dog barking his fool head off at masonry. Oogy does not seem to care, no matter how many times I remind him that this behavior makes him look rather silly.
One of my favorite things to do, though I don’t get to do it nearly as much as I would like, is to stretch out on the couch, enjoying the luxury of free time, and have Oogy stretch out next to me. He