Calm, Submissive, and….Boring?

For the most part, Richard and I have followed the advice of the dog experts on how to keep Willie in a state of calm submission – the relaxed and easygoing state in which it’s easiest (for humans, anyway) to co-habitate with their dogs.  I took this advice quite seriously, recalling the late and loveable Molly, our sometimes frenetic and uncontrollable sixty-five pound Airedale Terrier, a dog we “failed” with a lack of consistent rules and boundaries.

Richard and I have been consistent and calm with Willie since the day we brought him home, following a routine that minimizes any excitement or agitation.  We are amazed – and strangely proud – that our dog rarely ever makes a sound.  Willie doesn’t whine or bark, and frankly doesn’t seem bothered by much of anything.  He is the picture of contentment and affection, the poster dog for that exalted and desired state of calm submission.

But last night our friends Bob and Lynn came for dinner and met Willie for the first time.  As with everyone he meets, Willie approached these strangers with his tail wagging, as if they were already friends.  In the foyer, Bob greeted Willie with some get-acquainted scratching, then made a sudden lurching motion toward Willie as if he were about to begin a tap dance routine.  Willie responded in kind, instantly dropping his chest to the floor before running into the living room and then back into the foyer.  As soon as he returned, Bob made that sudden motion again, a sort of, “Watch out, I’m gonna getcha!” move that sent Willie running again.  The four of us laughed and smiled as Willie make a wider lap around the living room furniture.  He returned to the foyer again, his focus on his new playmate Bob, and let out a single bark.

Willie barked!

Richard and I looked at each other, stunned, as Bob and Willie continued this game through the house, with Bob stomping his feet and lurching toward the dog, and the dog running crazy, serpentine laps that took him under the dining table, around the sofa, into the sunroom and back, growling and barking.  All the frenetic activity made it appear for a moment that there were actually two dogs in the house, running and barking with playful, joyful abandon.

He barks!   Willie can bark! 

Richard, smiling, shook his head,  looked at me and said, “He must think you and I are really boring.”