Duke and the Chuck It

There were certain things I absolutely refused to do when we got our dog. The first is buy our dog 'doggie pastries'. The day I go into a fru fru dog store and pick out a frosted pink doughnut for my dog is the day that I've apparently lost my friggen mind. The second thing I refuse to do is make out with my dog. I mean, that seems completely self explanitory, no? Yet, on several occasions I've had people's dogs come up and lick my face and mouth. My natural reaction is to push the dog away from me. Nine times out of ten in that situation I've had the dog owner actually give me the stink eye for not allowing their dog to slobber all over me. What's that all about? Thirdly, I refuse to put any kind of clothing on my dog. If you want to put a sweater on your little puffball Kiwi you go right ahead. However, when Kiwi can't take her sweater off due to her lack of opposable thumbs and is being laughed at during playtime, well, shame on you. Hey, here's something, dogs have fur. Fourthly, I will never use a poop bag with a heart on it. Yes, there are poop bags with hearts on them. If it were a poop bag with someone giving the finger on the side of it then maybe I'd consider. I mean, what does a heart on a poop bag even mean? Poop equals Love? I love to pick up my dogs poop? Whatever. NO. Lastly, I refuse to buy a Chuck It. These were my words exactly, "I will never buy a Chuck It." A Chuck It, for those of you who don't know, is one of those devises that supposedly makes it easier to throw a ball to your dog, cat or goat. It looks like a long plastic arm with a claw at the end of it and can grip a tennis ball. They cost $15.00 and come with a Chuck It tennis ball. If you ask me, the Chuck It was designed for those who are either; too lazy to bend down, don't know how to throw a ball further than two feet or think that picking up a used tennis ball with their hand is too 'icky'. I decided I didn't like those people nor did I like the Chuck It. Maybe this is somehow connected to the gearhead issue I explained in my Geocaching post.

To this day Duke (our dog) has never had a pastry, never worn clothes (OK, once I put a sock on his paw b/c he was chewing it. Apparently to a dog that is the equivalent of making their paw disappear. Duke lost all ability to walk on that paw and would hold the socked leg up somewhere in the vicinity of his ear using only his other three legs. I must say I've socked many paws since then for sheer entertainment value. I'm going to hell.) and I have never used a poop bag with a heart on the side. However, two weeks ago, and to my dismay and other's chagrin, I had to buy a Chuck It. You can't hurt me. I hate myself more than you possibly ever could. How could I do it? Well...

About a month ago Duke and I went to the beach. I noticed off in the distance that there was a guy throwing tennis balls into the water for his two dogs. He was using a Chuck It. Sweet. Duke was behind me eating a clump of seaweed which he threw up an hour later. I myself was too involved in disliking the man and his Chuck It to be fully engaged with the seaweed issue and therefore I blame myself for Duke getting sick. As I pondered the complete lack of effort that anyone in our society wants to put into things anymore I noticed a third dog running up to the Chuck It man that bore a striking resemblance to Duke. It was quite amazing really...I mean the way he ran, his coloring and height was exactly the same. Although he certainly was not as well behaved as Duke. He was jumping all over the poor man, whom I disliked, running in circles around him and barking. Wow, bag dog. I was wondering what kind of owner would let their dog act that way when I turned around and noticed that Duke was gone. I'd like to say that it immediately occurred to me that the ill mannered dog jumping all over this man was Duke, but I didn't. Instead I panicked. I thought I'd lost my dog. The only other person I had seen on the beach was the man w/ the Chuck It so I started running towards him. I wondered what I could possibly say to him that wouldn't make me sound completely irresponsible. I could skip the details of how I lost my dog. No need to get overly detailed. I'd just explain to the man that Duke looks so similar to the dog jumping all over him that if I didn't know better I'd think it WAS Duke...aaaaannnd...stop. Deidre clocks in at just under five minutes to realize something that would take most other's only ten seconds. Suck it. By the time I actually got to man, Chuck It and two dogs, Duke was in quite the state. He spotted me just as I went to grab his collar and dodged my hand. He ran to the other side of Mr. Chuck It.
"Duke, come" I said in my happy, 'come here and I'll give you something good' voice.
He took a deep breath and didn't move.
"DUKE" I said in a sharp whisper, "COME!" That's right dog, I'm in COMPLETE control.
He ignored me. He refused to take his eyes off of the target. He barked. I went to go around the man and made another frivolous attempt to grab my dog. He dodged me, again. That's when Duke dug in and gave it one last college try. He took ten or so steps back, sat, stamped his front paws on the sand several times, stood up and proceeded to run full speed towards the man. He propelled himself, head down like a bull, into the Chuck It. Which did..absolutely nothing. He gave up. I grabbed Duke's collar and put him on the leash. I apologized profusely to the dislikeable man, who owned a Chuck It and walked away.

After that, Duke was never quite the same. He had become obsessed with the Chuck it. It was like crack. He wasn't sleeping well, he was cranky and was losing weight. OK, now I'm being dramatic. I tried everything but I couldn't keep him away. I tried avoidance but it was impossible. Chuck It's are everywhere. This bastard devise had shown up on every dog scene there was; the beach, the dog park, every open field or school playground. I tried reprimand. If Duke went after the chuck it and behaved like psycho dog from hell, I'd put him on the leash and we'd go home. That didn't last long, however. Duke is a high energy dog that needs to run around at least once a day or else he drives me to drink. I tried praise. I'd jump up and down and cheer like a lunatic every time he 'behaved properly' around the Chuck It. But he'd get so OCD around it that he didn't even notice me, unlike the other dog owners who would slowly back step away from me with their dogs. There was only one thing left to do. Train him on the damn thing. The only way to train him on the damn thing was to own the damn thing.

So that's it. I have lines that I have drawn when it comes to my dog. I have stuck to most. But in the case of Deidre Daly vs. the Chuck It, the verdict is in. I am guilty as charged. I have become a self loathing Chuck It owner.