Happy - Part Four

Okay, so I've thoroughly convinced everyone that our dog Happy was a mean, crotchety, and ornery beast. He was that, but he also had other unique and endearing qualities.

Every morning he would check to make sure we were all awake before he would take his morning constitutional. He's sniff each of us, like he was making sure we hadn't been turned into somebodies he didn't know. Only when he was certain it was really us would he go for a walk, do his business, come back and eat. Did I tell you he would only eat unless we were all home? At night he went on rounds and checked our bedrooms to make sure we were all safe in our beds. I have no idea how often he made those nightly rounds. We never knew when he would show up, checking doors, checking beds. Sometimes he'd lie down by a door, like Cerberus at the Gates of Hades. Now whether he was keeping us in or keeping somebodies he didn't know out, is up for debate.

Because he was...shall we say...unpredictable, we trained him early on to do one of two things. We'd either tell him to go get tied up and we'd put him on his chain or tell him to go in the bathroom. Either way he knew he was off duty. Many somebodies he didn't know could have freely walked through the house and stolen everything and Happy, if he was one his chain, would have slept through it. If we knew somebodies he didn't know were going to be coming to the house, say for dinner, we usually put him in the bathroom and after an appropriate length of time we'd tell our guests we were letting the dog out. Instructions were given. "Just ignore him. Pretend he isn't there. Don't try to pat him. If he comes up and sniffs at you it's safe to put your hand out after which he'll treat you like a friend." And he would. He'd be fine, a perfect gentleman.

This leads into the oddest most remarkable thing about him. Say you came to our house everyday at the same time, stayed all day, and then left. Every day, upon your arrival, Happy would treat you as total and complete stranger, a somebody he didn't know. He would bark great warnings, have to be tied up or put in the bathroom and be reintroduced to you. Never failed, he would absolutely refuse to remember you. But if you spent just ONE night under our roof, well then, you were a member of the family and you would be treated as such. It wouldn't matter if you didn't see him again for a year, he would remember and welcome you home just like he welcomed us; with his funny short tail spinning in a circle, his head turned sideways like he was pretending he couldn't see you and then when you got to within a few feet, he'd leap at you in great delight saying things like, "Where the hell have you been! I've missed you! Did you bring me something to eat?"