Hodie is in for some change

The move to Baltimore is proceeding. John is leaving Wednesday in the car to drive cross-country with the dogs. Finn and I are flying out next Saturday. My sister-in-law has volunteered to keep our dogs until we find our forever home. She has a dog named Bosch and a cat named Violet. I know that Charlie will make the necessary adjustments because she's Charlie and she's the smartest dog I've ever had. But Hodie. Well, Hodie is damaged.

When I adopted him, I was told that he was in the system because his owner was in jail. Whoever had Hodie could not destroy his sweet nature, but he certainly gave it his best try. It has taken five years to get Hodie to come out of the gate without peeing. Even though he knows that he's going on his beloved and ever-memorable walk.

I chose Hodie because of a glance at that sweet nature. We were not in the market for a dog. I was by myself and we have agreed getting a dog is not a decision you make by yourself. I was on my way to an appointment with my shrink and got tired of waiting at a light, so I cut through the PetSmart parking lot. I felt so guilty about cutting through the parking lot that I stopped at the store to show that I wasn't really cutting through. I was just going to get Charlie some bones, but I glanced, just glanced, at the dogs brought in by the humane society.

Hodie, whose name was then Boog, was kept in a cage with his brother, Elliot (The animated movie Open Season had come out the year before.)  Hodie was chewing on a squeaky toy. As I watched, Hodie spit out the toy and nosed it toward his brother who was staring into the distance, depressed. "Give me that dog," I said. And someone heard me. I will feel guilty about this until the day I die, but I separated Hodie and his brother. The humane society assured me that was o.k., but I've never felt right about it. But before I knew it, I was sitting in my shrink's office with a sleeping Hodie curled at my feet.

Yes, the shrink and I talked about how disrespectful it was to do this and how did I think the dog would fit in and...I believe I said, "Whatever. This is the sweetest dog I've ever seen."

Fortunately, everyone (everyone named John) fell in love with Hodie the minute they (he) laid eyes on him. John said that because I'd done this horrible thing, choosing this dog without consulting my partner, he was allowed to name the dog. And he christening him, Doggie Hodie. That's dog for Don Quixote.


Of course, my then 2-year-old loved him at first sight--that's how dogs and little boys work. We noticed further sweetness, but we also noticed strange behavior. He refused to come out of the gate whether beckoned or leashed. He was desperately afraid of John despite absolutely no threatening behavior on his part. Then there's the utter and complete devotion to me. Which, surprisingly, can be annoying. Hodie's my right hand man--if I reach out my right hand, he's under it. (Same for the left.)

I can't use the restroom alone. Of course, I don't sleep alone, but Hodie has to be touching me. If I'm away from the house, Hodie puts himself in his crate and doesn't come out until I return.


When I had surgery to implant my pacemaker, Hodie couldn't stand to be around me. He would sniff my wounds, cry and run away. That lasted about a week. Right now John has a scuffed knee from a fall in the driveway. Hodie sniffs it and cries every day. 

Even now, four years later, we still have unexplained fearful behavior. Just yesterday as the rest of the family sat in the living room we heard Hodie crying from the bedroom. We called and called for him to no avail. Finally I got up to see what the problem was. There was a broom in the doorway. "Hodie, you can come out." And he hopped over the broom and came with me.There are times when he's sprawled in the floor, sleeping. He'll yelp, jump up and run away to hide in his crate. What *is* that?

Hodie loves ears and toes. All dogs love toes, of course. Charlie has her own toe song "She's Charlie, she's Charlie, she's very, very soft, she's Charlie, she's Charlie, she'll lick your toes off." That's from when Finn was a baby. She never cared about our grown-up toes and she really doesn't show any interest in Finn's six year old toes. Hodie, however, sniffs all toes extensively every day, sometimes several times a day. It's an insistent invasive sniffing. Same for the ears. All the ears. In fact, that's how he wakes up Finn. First the ears then the toes. And Hodie somehow keeps the coldest wettest nose you've ever known. How he does that we do not know.

Hodie has a toy and when he brings it to you you are expected to reach for it, but you can't have it. No, no, no, you can't have it. He likes to play mouse under the covers. If you put your hand under the covers and move it around, Hodie goes nuts. Great fun.

When Hodie goes outside, he has to go with Charlie. Charlie will scratch the door loudly and insistently until you open the damn door, dammit. Hodie will not bark to remind you that he is out there. He has spent entire nights outside because he won't bark or scratch. He just goes and curls up on the wicker sofa on the porch with his paw over his nose. He's ever so grateful when you let him back in.

So, that is Hodie. I am worried about him and any changes this change my wreak.