I previously posted about Tobie the mighty dog, defender of running soldiers everywhere. Well, he defended me pretty well, and he defended his tennis ball extremely well. In fact, you could even argue that his defense of his tennis ball was more of an obsession than a defense. It was almost as if he had an obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). I previously described the mind games he played with people using that tennis ball. And that is what gave me the idea that he had an OCD obsession. When Tobie was around me, he didn’t obsess over the tennis ball so much. We just played catch. But as I watched him around other people, I began to worry a bit. I would always second-guess myself, “Could Tobie be trusted alone with other people?” Only time would give me the answer. The question I always asked myself was, “Can I afford to take the chance and wait around to see what happens?” Meanwhile, when Tobie and I were out on the streets alone doing our running thing, times were great. Except for the occasional bump off the road when a car came by. I could never convince Tobie that cars were not a threat to me. I could kneel and reason with Tobie for hours and say, “Look boy, you got to understand, cars are not bad. Cars are good. When we run, cars are not bad.” Yeah. It was sort of like talking to a wall or tree, I might as well have saved my breath. Because Tobie would just look at me, then he would look away and start panting. Then he would look at me as if to say, “Well, are we just going to stand here or are we going to go?” When I would finally say, “Okay boy let’s go.” It was as if he would say in return, “Well, it’s about damn time. Let’s go already.” So, the little sparring match went on between Tobie and I for a considerable amount of time. We had more or less called a truce. But then there was the problem of the OCD condition with the tennis ball. What was I going to do about that? Yeah. That was a tough one to figure out. I wasn’t really sure. But as luck would have it, or should I say as unfortunate circumstances would have it, the decision was taken out of my hands. I received a call at work one day from my wife. Now when your wife calls you at work, you know something is up. You don’t know what. But you know something is up. After I said hello, my wife immediately started talking. She screamed in a panicked voice, “The dog bit our daughter on the head! Come home now.” Then she hung up. She wasn’t asking, she was telling me to come home. There was no arguing that case, so I told everybody that there was an emergency at home and that I had to leave. When I got home, I learned that my daughter was not badly hurt. She had tried to play with the tennis ball. Tobie’s tennis ball. It seems that I had forgotten to warn her about that tennis ball. She saw the ball and wanted to play with it. But it was Tobie’s ball. Tobie was just defending his ball. But my wife put her foot down. She exclaimed, “Either that dog goes, or you go! Today!” I started to reply, “But…” “No but. I said today.” Well that settled it. Tobie had to go. I could only think of one person to call and that was the guy who gave me the dog. So, I called up Robert Caldwell. When he answered the phone, I said, “Hello Bob, this is Wright Masters.” Robert Caldwell responded, “hey Wright, what’s up?” “Tobie is a great dog. I have really enjoyed running with that dog, but he bit my daughter. He bit her on the head. She’s not hurt bad, but my wife won’t let me keep Tobie. So, I have to give him back.” “Oh no! I am really sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?” “Yes. As a matter of fact, there is. You can take Tobie back. I have nowhere else to take him, and I don’t want to put him in the pound. What do you say?” “Alright man, I’ll take him back.” So, I delivered Tobie back to Bob Caldwell. I could tell Tobie was sad to see me leave, and I hated to leave him too. But it was for the best. Life at home was just not the same without Tobie. My wife and my daughter could tell that I was not the same. A couple weeks later, we pulled into the Safeway before returning home. As I pulled into a parking spot in the parking lot, my wife noticed a pickup truck with a sign on it. The sign read, “Free purebred Black Labrador puppies.” My wife said, “Oh look, Wright, do you want to get a puppy?” I looked at the sign and thought, “Hmmm. A Black Lab. Interesting. They make fine bird dogs, and they can hunt.” “Well, what do you think? Do you want to look at them?” “Go ahead and twist my arm already. Oh, alright. I guess we can walk over there. That is, if you really want me to.” “Well, it just seems like you really miss Tobie. I think maybe you want another dog.” “I said we would look, didn’t I? Dang. You don’t need to push. I’m going.” Things were working exactly according to plan. Perfect. The wife was totally on board. I had played my cards perfectly. All I had to do now was go over there and find the perfect match. So, I walked over to the pickup, and I looked at all of the puppies. I looked at the lady and asked her why she was giving the puppies away. She said, “I have too many that I’m trying to sell already, and I really can’t afford to pay for the papers on these dogs. If I give them away, I can give you a set of papers that show that they are purebred. But the papers just won’t be certified by the American Kennel Club (AKC). You can take the papers to the AKC and get the dog registered yourself later if you really want certification.” Then, I responded, “In that case, I’ll take that male right over there.” “No, you won’t.” “What the hell do you mean, no I won’t? You said the dogs were free, didn’t you?” “I did. And they are. But you can’t have that one.” “Why the hell not? That’s the one I want.” “Yes. That may be the one you want. But it doesn’t work that way. You don’t choose the dog. The dog chooses you. If you look down beside you, you will see that a dog has already chosen you.” So, I looked down. And there, just beneath me inside the tailgate of the pickup, a small puppy was laying. I was so busy talking to the lady, I didn’t even notice that puppy come over and lay down. But there she was. And I say she because it was a female. Then the lady said, “That dog chose you. Notice that it’s the only dog that is even close to you. That is your dog.” “Well, all right then. I reckon I’ll take this one.” “What are you going to name it?” “Do you need to know that now?” “Well, no. I guess I could always wait then mail you the papers later. But I thought I would just give you the papers now.” “Oh. All right then. Uh, give me a minute. I haven’t really thought about this. Okay I got it. Let’s call her Molly.” “Molly?” “Yeah. Molly is a great name, don’t you think? Some definitions of that name define it as meaning ‘Star of the Sea’ or ‘Pearl.’ So, I think it’s a great name.” “Molly it is. Here are your papers. Take good care of Molly, and she will take good care of you.” That day marked the beginning of a beautiful relationship between me and Molly. Thus, my wife and I were able to ward off another exercise in futility.
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