Mason, the perfect dog

I’m a dog person. That doesn’t mean that I don’t like cats. I have one named Daisy. She’s a spoiled calico with litter box “issues”. I just like dogs better.

I’ve had several different types of dogs throughout my life. At last count…23. All of them were special in their own way. Some were pure-breds and others strays or pound puppies. We’ve rescued so many. Mom and Dad raised and groomed toy poodles for a while and then switched to collies. So I also experienced several litters of puppies and the show ring. All of this makes me an expert…in my own eyes at least.

My favorite, best dog ever, is Mason. He is a Boston Terrier. 6 years old. We went to Tennessee to get him shortly after our old German Shepherd, Ellsrah, died. Mason was 16 weeks old. The breeder had named him Dancer because he stands on his back legs and walks around. “Dancer” was not a masculine enough name. He is handsome and rugged.  He is the epitome of a dog bred to be a companion.

I knew I had a special pup when he nuzzled his muzzle into the crook of my elbow all the way home, a cute habit he still does.

Mason's favorite place to be.

We watch the Brewers together. He is the perfect lap dog, except for a few minor quirks. I have been in “puppy love” ever since.

Mason sleeps between us. He snores as loud as my husband. Somehow when the dog does it it’s endearing! And he makes the cutest little noises when he dreams!

His favorite toy is 2 old socks tied togather. This we call his baby, although he does play rather rough with it. If you ask him were it is, he runs around looking for it. Of course he’s brilliant! He is always up for tug and fetch.

He also loves long walks and sitting on the patio surveying his domain. He thinks he’s big (21 pounds). And really wants to take on every dog that walks by. We’ve been working on “Cesar-izing” him. He is better lately. But I have noticed that all the neighbors cross the street to pass our house. I’d rather not be the “bad dog people” in our neighborhood.

I really enjoy having a shadow, or constant companion. If I’m sitting here writing, he’s beside me on his pillow or on my lap, (which makes for interesting typos). If I’m gardening, his leash is attached to my belt loop. He loves car rides.

I mentioned a “quirk” a few paragraphs back. He has no tail. This in itself is not a problem. It’s natural for this breed. However, no tail means that there is nothing between my leg and his behind should he decide to “pass wind”. Now passing wind alone is not horrific. The real problem comes in when my husband has given him a few too many rich treats and he has a bit of…let me put this delicately…wetness. Oh he’s sooo embarrassed when this happens. And I, of course, have to go change. Other than that, he is perfect. (Oh stop. Just change and get back to the game!)

Mason loves my granddaughter. She loves him. I love the fact that if she wants to play tug with him, you can see him switch gears to accommodate her size. She’s 4 and together they giggle and play. Then she has to wash her hands. She doesn’t like the slimey “baby”. He also plays tug with our old Beagle/Coonhound mix, Peachy. Mason has the best “fake left and spin” to get around her.

Today we made a trip to our vet. Mason has a mysterious lump on the side of his neck. I was like a nervous Mother. Fortunately, it’s just fat. I’ve taken to calling him Lumpy Rutherford, from the Leave it to Beaver gang. This isn’t the first lump on Mason I’ve almost panicked over. (The other being a cyst on his head that we needed to have removed.) No more lumps! I can’t take the stress!

So did I say he’s perfect?  I wish everyone could experience the love and joy that comes from such a special animal. I’m certain that my blood pressure is lowered when I hold him. I believe that dogs like Mason are therapy dogs to their individual owners. What a blessing! What a character.

I love you Mom

Rory gets a kiss

Mason and Daisy

Dad tucked me in

people watching

Nap time!