Canine Crucible

The Acid Temperament Test

Anybody who’s read this blog for any length of time knows that Buddy the Wonder Pooch is not without his challenges (like almost biting the neighbor yesterday). I’ve always been fortunate that during my all too frequent absences he’s had a loving (and understanding) place to hang out with in the Great Aunt. For the first time in recorded history she and the Soxfather are not available, something about a romantic getaway to Boston this weekend. I guess they took that old expression, “Get a Room!” to heart. (so happy for them)

Trying to Mollify my Concerns

At any rate I had to examine other options, Keene Friend has volunteered in the past but he has a brutal work schedule which Buddy would only exacerbate. I decided to check out local kennels and gave up hope since most of them were already booked during this height of vacation season. I reached out to the Favorite Son and he was willing but I knew he and the ABFA face their own challenging (and very full) lifestyle with Riggins.

Wingman at his Last London Show

I finally found one, located right next to our vets. They had space but insisted they first had to meet Buddy and have him pass what they call a “Temperament Assessment”. I tried to ignore the warning claxons going off in my head because as we all know Buddy has his moments. The test involves having him interact with the other dogs at the facility and insure he’s not a troublemaker (hence the claxons).  After shuttling between the vet and the kennel three times making sure I had all the proper paperwork Buddy was scheduled for his assessment today. I had to drop him off at 630am to spend a minimum of six hours hanging out with the other dogs at the facility. He seemed genuinely interested as I in-processed him. I was trying to be nonchalant as various other dogs were checked in for daycare and Buddy tensed up each time one came close. I figure he’s been through the Remy (Great Aunt’s puppy) test and survived so maybe this won’t be a big deal. Is it strange I feel like I’ve dropped one of my kids off at kindergarten and hope the other kids like him? Anyways, is been four hours and no desperation calls from the kennel, yet, maybe there’s hope. I’ve always got the Portsmouth option as a backup.

Yep Grandpa, Still Here

The Wingman’s return to California has had the corollary effect of reducing the daily photo flow featuring the First Blog Reader. It’s almost as if they have better things to do out there than take and post photographic evidence of their child’s excellence. It’s manifestly clear at this point that I’ve become addicted to my morning dose of granddaughter pics. My daughter grudgingly released these photos to address my rapidly approaching withdrawal symptoms.