The Boxer and Me : Round One
In the clearing stands a boxer …
My nemesis is a 2-year-old, 40-pound boxer named Max. From the moment he came into my life, he’s created chaos. He has eaten everything from expensive shoes to cherished dolls. And broken dishes, computers, and one very much needed finger.
One fine day we got into a tussle over a pizza man. One minute we were sitting together watching the world go by. He had his head on my lap. I had his leash wrapped around my hand. The next, I was dragged like a dish rag while Max lunged for the unsuspecting delivery guy.
After a few hours in the ER, I swore never to visit that dog again.
Only trouble is, he lives with my grandchildren.
So, shoving him out of my life really isn’t an option.
I realized I have to show him who is boss.
Unfortunately, he has the same intentions. At his house, he is the alpha dog.
The minute I walk in, he declares his authority by jumping up on me. As much as I try to stare him down and order him to back off, I end up wincing and backing into a corner.
And then there is the barking. I can only assume that he’s trying to have a conversation with me.
