Rocket & Reginald
A constant “whoom-whoom-whoom” could be heard outside the exam room. It sounded like a racecar hurtling around a track. Slowly opening the door, I saw the yellow comet called Rocket, a four-month old Labrador, as he completed another lap. His owner, Ray Tyred looked at me with a helpless expression on his face.
“He has a lot of energy,” he explained. Ray slumped in the chair and seemed depressed. “Too much energy. Running, digging holes---I should have named him Trencher.” Rocket slowed down long enough to give his owner’s hand a quick lick and then accelerated again.
“Where did you find Rocket?”
“A guy named Joe Hunter breeds them. I heard he has the best dogs. I got pick of the litter.”
“And how did you pick Rocket?”
Ray Tyred brightened for a moment—“Actually, he picked me. He was the first puppy to charge over and say ‘hi’ to me. He chewed on my shoelaces, and I knew we were made for each other.”
“And how do you feel now?”
“Well, I’d hoped for a dog that wasn’t going to destroy the landscaping and would sit with me on the porch. I love Rocket, but he’s a lot more work than I expected.”
Suddenly, a low rumbling sound emanated from the nearby exam room. The “zzzz-zzzz-zzzz” was distracting enough that Rocket stopped running and just bounded in place.
“I’m going to check that noise out, if you don’t mind.” Ray nodded and Rocket bounced a little higher in approval.
Carefully, I slid open the nearby exam room door, not sure what I’d find. The source of the noise was immediately obvious—another Labrador, except this dog was sound asleep on the floor.
Fiona Fitness jogged in place while her dog Reginald snored peacefully. “Hi, how’s everything going,” I asked.
“Fine, I guess,” said Ms. Fitness. “This is what my dog does most of the time. I don’t know if he’s lazy or just growing a lot.”
“Maybe a little of both. How’d you find Reginald?”
“I wanted a good, quality dog and got him from a breeder named Wes Minster. Reginald comes from a line of champion show dogs. I hoped to get a jogging buddy, but I’m not sure that he’s ever going to keep up with me.”
“I’ll be back in just a moment.” I stepped out and invited Ray and Rocket to join Reginald and Fiona. Rocket spun circles around Reginald, who watched him with a tail wag. Fiona offered the empty chair to Ray as she continued her jogging in place.
“Both of you have healthy, normal dogs. However, Fiona adopted a show dog—a dog that has been bred to be social, good with the family, and is comfortable being handled a lot. Ray has a working dog; he is supposed to be energetic, enthusiastic and driven to do his job, whether that job is hunting, rescue work, etc.”
Ray looked wistfully at Reginald dozing on the floor. Fiona looked longingly at Rocket as he bounced up and down. They both said at the same time, “I love my dog, but---“
“-- you both realize that each has the wrong dog for his or her lifestyle. Of course, dogs aren’t interchangeable. But why don’t you take the other dog home for a few days and see how it goes.”
The other day I talked with Fiona as she and Rocket were going for a jog around the park. They’d just gotten back from a visit with Ray and Reginald, who interrupted his nap for fifteen minutes of action packed playtime. The owners were happy and the dogs were finally at home.
