Remus Tries to be Cool

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So those familiar with the large, awkward wolfhound that is my constant shadow are well aware that if canines had highschool stereotypes Remus would be the awkward dork trying really hard to fit in and get people to like him (and failing, repeatedly).

He’s too clumsy to be a jock (he trips over his own feet), plus he can’t catch things in his mouth (they usually end up hitting him in the head after he snaps his jaws wildly in the air), and he’s yet to figure out how to get a flat frisbee off of the ground.

He’s not a nerd, he’s not smart enough. If you wave the end of his tail in front of his face he will try to eat it until he falls over off balance, he knows a few basic commands but he has yet to realize he’s big enough to knock over a broom propped in an entryway to bar his entrance, or that he’s tall enough to step over an object a foot high.

He’s too shy to be the popular kid. Hiding behind my legs in consternation when exposed to new places, and alternately growling and whining when people he doesn’t know approach. And yet he hates being left alone and will follow someone he doesn’t know well around if someone he knows better isn’t available to shadow.

But he tries, so hard does he try, my poor uncool dog. Once he’s mustered his courage up enough to play with some canine companions (his cousins Winston and Coco usually) he goes overboard. He’s ok for a bit, and then his enthusiasm gets the better of him and he ends up knocking one of his pals head over tail with a paw the size of a coffee mug-they subsequently hide under chairs. He tried being cool at the dog park and lifted a leg to impress a lady-and fell over. He sees the other dogs blithly jump up on the couch and snuggle up to owners, so he tries to park his 130lb rear on the nearest lap and gets shoved off.

I am constantly finding Remus in predicaments that underline his un-coolness. He managed to hog tie himself to the porch while wearing the cone of shame. He’s tried to stop from full gallop too fast and gone head over heels (on more than one occasion). He leaned against my mother-in-law while she was scratching his head so far that he knocked her over. While playing with Thor in Lillington he shoulder checked a mailbox and fell over. He was keeping me company one day while cleaning and started licking the window I was washing.

Today, he provided another example of why he will never be a sporty dog. Coco plays fetch with tennis balls, she loves it, and will play fetch for hours. Unlike Remus, she can catch the ball mid air. Also unlike Remus, there is no danger of her accidentally swallowing the tennis ball. Well, whatever another dog is doing Remus wants to do, too, so once he realizes I’m playing fetch with Coco, he goes stampeding after the ball. Coco is smarter than he is, and realizes size wise she could get squished, so she steps aside when Remus gets involved. Remus, on the other hand, can’t hold on to the tennis ball to save his neck. He picks it up and keeps bouncing it all over in his mouth “chewing” on it, and accidentally dropping it, and then retrieving it splay legged on the hardwood, then dropping it, then retrieving it….yes, Remus plays fetch with himself because he can’t hold on to a tennis ball long enough to bring it back to me. Except for today. Today, Remus-excitedly munching on the tennis ball-punctured it with his front left canine tooth…and there it was stuck.

Brian and I, admittedly, laughed at Remus trying to get the tennis ball off of his front tooth for a bit before actually assisting him. It was like the time he got into a bag of christmas candy and had green and gold tin foil stuck in his molars. Shaking his head, pawing at it with his front leg, pushing it with his tongue…I think I may need a service dog for my mentally challenged dog.

Poor doofus. He tries so hard. If he weren’t so large I’m pretty sure other dogs would try to give him a fur wedgie.

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