Reub redeems himself

Reuben's origins are unknown. He was abandoned in rural Oregon, and then languished in two shelters before we took him home. We got him because he seemed like a mellow, sweet-natured, uncomplicated fellow who would make a good pal for Eddy, saddened after the death of his beloved old black lab friend, Sadie.

While all of those good things are true, Reub has proven to be a project. The vet bills in his first months were sky high; this boy had three tough bacterial infections, and a constant case of the runs. He was, of course, not housebroken. What dark secrets he holds from his life before us we'll never know for sure. Why he abhors a certain few people and dogs, and why he is terrified of small children, we can only guess. We have worked hard to keep him from terrorizing the neighbors and anyone who rings the doorbell. He can dig a hole with alarming speed, and he can pick up a scent and disappear after it in the blink of an eye. He rolls in icky stuff at every possible opportunity. He has tangled with a porcupine and suffered the consequences.

But, you know what this dog is good at? Love, love, lovvvve. If you ever need sixty five pounds of soft, lean-right-into-you, total adoration, Reub is your man. If you ever wanted to feel worshipped like a god, just be the person to let him out of his crate in the morning. If your feet are cold, he will be glad to lie across them; if you have had a bad day, he cares.

Also, if you hitch him up to a skijoring line, he will haul you through the snow. Just one week ago, that is what we did. I was amazed to see that I had captured any pictures of him at all, me with my poles under one arm, gloves under the other, trying to take a picture of this moving target in front of me. It was fun, and Reub was a very good sport.