Musings on Mastication

Here it is... the inaugural post!


The quickest explanation for why I've started this blog is that I have two incredible, YOUNG, dogs- both of whom are chewers.  Not just any ole dog chewers, but super-canine, obsessive, destroy stuff chewers.  To their credit, they (mostly) gnaw only what is given to them but seriously, I'm shocked almost daily at the stuff they consume and at the speed that toys and such are destroyed.  They also do funny things that I think other people will also laugh at, so there will probably be a nice dose of those stories as well.


My dear friend Kim Boyle (owner of Barkstown Road) has been telling me for months that I should share these (mis)adventures- so here I am! Additional inspiration provided by another good friend, Taming Insanity, who has the best name and one I could easily share... She wrangles kids hilariously and I hope to be able to hang.


While this blog will memorialize the comical and sometimes infuriating (or infuriatingly comical) life of Mulligan and Oliver, the story actually begins before them with my first dog all of my own, and the world's best friend- Alex.

I got Alex when he was 2 from a friend, Gavin, who wasn't able to keep him after a significant life event changed his living situation.  Alex moved with me when I came to Chicago in 2006 and was my steady friend through the unsteadiest stage of my life and still there as it finally calmed down.  He was with me through apartments, jobs, friends, boyfriends, you name it- always with a smile and wagging nub. 


It's important to note- for the sake of this blog- that Alex pretty much only ate food. And when I say only ate food, I mean it was his religion.  Alex had toys for YEARS that other dogs eventually destroyed or we threw away because they were dirty...  but Alex didn't destroy beds or toys, he didn't chase birds, paid no mind to squirrels or rabbits.  The only toy moment Alex ever had was at the beach (his favorite place) with a tennis ball.  In the house or any other time, he didn't care about anything but at the beach, he was a different dog. 


Like big old dogs do, Alex developed arthritis and then osteosarcoma and was put down May 28th, 2011 (at the ripe age of 10) by Scott and me amidst way too many tears.  His remains were scattered at the Foster Dog Beach in Chicago- the perfect place!


So this is my training.  Aside from a miniature schnauzer, Gunnar, my family got when I was 16- all I knew about dogs I learned from 8 years with Alex, a big (100+ lbs) goofy, LAZY Rottweiler.  After a couple months of mourning, the lack of companionship was too much, life felt too dull so Scott and I decided we were ready for a new canine adventure.  This would be our first dog "together" (Scott and I met November, 2009) and a 10-15 year commitment so it had to be perfect.  I poured over Petfinder, I DVR'ed  Dogs 101, we made lists of what we did and did not want in Dog 2.0, we interviewed friends and families about what *they* thought we needed (Mom voted "small", Dad voted "none"), we held puppies at Dog Patch, we made size motions with our arms to judge too big, too small, at least this huggable, etc. 


Good thing we did all that too...  because it went completely out the door on July 24, 2011.