Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

raiders of the lost park

I think it may have been said not to long ago, that a person has a tendency to live up to their name.  In fact, that their name defines them.  I think I may have even been the one to say that.  (click here to read "my name means what?")

And it’s true. 

When my son named his puppy Rowdy, we warned him that he may be setting himself up for more excitement than he was ready for…and his puppy has lived up to his name…and then some!

So, it should be no surprise to me that naming my English Mastiff puppy, Indiana Jones, would bring about its own set of challenges.

Just to recap…my husband is working diligently on creating a backyard garden to grow as much of our own food as possible.  He has recently torn out old shrubs, cut down trees, and is planting many varieties of vegetable matter.  This alone poses some risk to the puppy.  There are dangers lurking in the yard, dangers that call to a puppy’s sense of adventure. 

Especially a puppy named Indiana Jones.

Indy, as we like to call him, has discovered a treasure trove of jiffy peat pots (small pouches of dirt created to start plants from seed) that my husband discarded in his compost heap when they failed to yield viable plants.  He has decided that he needs to collect them all and shake the dirt out of them.  Probably to see if they are filled with treasure. 

They aren’t.  That’s why they were discarded.  But that hasn’t discouraged our puppy from checking each and every one.  And of course, I have to stay close to his tail to pull each one from his mouth before he swallows them.

This is exhausting for me, but quite enjoyable for him.  It is the first place he goes when we take him outside.

Once I tire of protecting him from the dirt, I carry him to the lower part of the yard, where he has discovered a place he can get under the house.  It would be the one part of our house that does not have a basement under it.  Instead it has a crawl space.  A crawl space filled with creepy crawly things.  I can’t follow him into this place.  Not because I can’t fit—I’m sure I could if I approached from a crawl position—but I can’t go into a dark place where spiders live.  My puppy seems to enjoy the webs. He prances into the dark cave and brings webs back to me.  This place must be sealed up immediately!  But it will have to wait until the weekend. 

I have more pressing matters. 

My puppy has decided that the cat’s litter box is a treasure box filled with sand for the digging.  We keep the litter box in the laundry room for the express purpose of keeping it away from the dogs.  We installed a cat door for cat access.  Indy has discovered that he can get in through this opening and it his favorite activity.  I found him lying on the floor in there with his “treasures”  more than once.

Luckily, he won’t always fit.  But until that day comes, I will need to block the door. 

It seems that just as one mission is thwarted, he discovers a fresh adventure. 

On the upside—there always has to be an upside—I think I’m losing weight chasing him.  And the more I lose, the more he gains.  He has gained another pound since Monday.  At eleven weeks old, he weights nineteen pounds.  It’s a progressive weight program for me.  My challenge continues to grow until I can’t pick him up at all.  By then I should have reached my goal—a well behaved puppy, and smaller waistline. 

It can’t happen soon enough for me. 

Until the next time…I’ll be chasing the puppy under my bed where he has discovered the land of the lost socks!

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