Life with Lester

I've had him maybe 15 years at this point, since he was a mere pup. Amazing how mellow he was for about the first week or two- then WHAM-O! A 20-lb bundle of destructive canine energy, and heading all directions at once.

Over the years he's mellowed back out, gone full circle as it were. Getting him fixed awhile back there helped- at that time my neighbors had a poodle who used to drive him crazy at certain times. It was the scent of course, but I still contend that it was the way she shook that little thing of hers that also got my Lester all aquiver.

And age took care of the rest. He no longer goes crazy barking every time someone is on the front porch- or for that matter, any dog even across the street. If anything, he's a bit too mellow these days, getting that phlegmatic temperament like Jed Clampett's dog Duke.

With the mellowness though, seems to come cantankerous old fart'ness, an ornery stubbornness about such vital matters as his cuisine(must have gravy or the birds get it)and the basic pecking order in my animal kingdom. He was, after all, the first one here.

I got Lester around Christmastime of 1996. He got a feline housemate that following Spring, a kitten roughly his age whom I named Maxine. They were together for 12 years, until her death in 2009. From there I got two female kittens- Cindy and Jill-who've been with us ever since. So Lester has grown up in a household populated by felines.

Of late, he and I have been having our difficulties. Part of it has to do with his more frequent incontinence, some of which is age and some is anger towards me on occasion. Many mornings experiencing an unwelcome squishiness on certain areas of the carpet. He is also wont to walking in the kitchen while the cats are eating and just pushing them out of the way then proceeding to eat their food(yes yes I've tried elevating their food dish but one of them in particular gets up there, scoops the cat food into her paw and drops it back onto the floor, whereupon she leaps down and eats it from the floor. Oy...). Every time I catch him at this I push him out of the way and then he has to listen to me as I lecture him--well, he has to listen to that tone of voice I'm sure he hates. So I've been the Bad Guy, the ogre where he's concerned.

And so sometime Tuesday evening, I'd let him out into the backyard, and the side gate on my fence was slightly open as it turned out, enabling him to slip out the back, Jack. He'd made a new plan, Stan. No need to be coy, Roy- he'd set himself free!

The back gate has been left open(I'm thinking by some neighbor kids, who've since been talked to about it)and he's gotten loose before, but he usually wanders around the front of the house and one of my neighbors spots him. But this time he took off for points unknown: around the front of the house and this time veering off across the street and into the next block. Someone there said they saw him, and that he was real interested in what the cats over there were doing- which is understandable since he's grown up with felines pretty much his whole life. I guess that's sorta like a guy with lots of girl friends, or a girl whose friends are all guys. A dog whose friends(or at least cohabitors)are all cats.

Anyway, he got loose and I couldn't find him. Searched the block on foot, and then got in my vehicle and combed the neighborhood. As it turned out, the Pound got him. Had to go down to their facility in the middle of a workday, and took a bit of a lecture myself on his grooming. I took it, paid the fee, but still maintained that Lester is not a neglected animal: he gets 3 squares a day, all the attention in the world(you can always give your pets more though..), and has 2 cats to play with all day. That seemed to soften things a bit. I was just glad to see that he was there, and okay. Not thrilled to be there by any means, but alive and well.

He was delighted to be home, and gave me a doggie-hug(wrapped himself around one leg). And I was delighted to have him home(incontinence and other canine histrionics notwithstanding), so he was made over even more than usual. Actually as far as grooming, I've done that to some extent every time he comes back into the house wearing part of the yard. Lotsa cockleburrs.

Lester is now 'bagged and tagged', meaning he has tags around his neck and the microchip in his rear end(the doggie GPS). I'm just glad he's okay. Lester could have a lot more good years in him yet, but at 15 he is getting older. When his time comes, I'd just as soon it be here- with his feline and human buddies at his side.