The first time I met my daughter Zoe’s new dog, Junie, it walked over to me in a friendly manner, seemed to smile at me, and bit me. Thankfully, I possess an amazing ability to react calmly to a crisis. So, I screamed like a girl.
Zoe raced over and asked me if it drew blood. I told her it didn’t, and then she announced: “Then it doesn’t count.”
What the #@%?!
Fun facts about Junie –
First, Junie wasn’t really a “new” dog. She was actually a “used” dog. My daughter and son-in-law got her from the pound. (Probably on sale).
Second, Junie is half Pitbull and half “whatever happened to be trotting down the alley that day.”
Third, Junie does NOT like men. Apparently, some jack*ss abused Junie early in life, and she clearly still harbors a “biting” resentment.
Fast-forward six months to a late-night phone call from Zoe:
“Dad, I’ve got an emergency, and I have to drop Junie off at your house.”
I reminded her that the first time I met Junie, she said “hello” by biting me, and I’ve been avoiding her ever since.
My daughter responded by telling me I just had to remember three things –
1. Always let her come to you (don’t approach her).
2. Don’t pet her on the top of her head.
3. Under no circumstance should I make eye-contact with her.
No eye-contact? Was she telling me how to take care of her dog or survive in a stretch in a San Quentin?
Smash cut to my daughter knocking on my door with “Junie the biting dog.”
Most people who dog sit worry that the dog will get nervous and relieve itself on the floor. I was worried that I would get nervous and relieve myself on the floor.
Fortunately, this story had a happy ending. After two days of tiptoeing around the house trying to avoid eye-contact with Cujo, (I mean Junie), things finally settled down. I’m not sure what ultimately changed Junie’s mind about me. One possibility is that I won her over with my charming personality. The other, more likely, possibility is that she remembered me screaming like a girl and reclassified my gender.
Either way, I survived to tell the tale.