Demons and Other Inconveniences

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  The first few days were magical. Each time he did something remotely dog-like there was a new round of excited screaming from the children. On the other hand, whenever he chewed something up or shit on the floor, my wife reiterated her lack of desire and reminded me of my duties with nothing more than a look. All things considered, I’d say he was a hit out of the ballpark.

  Phillip’s easy temperament remained unchanged and he proved to be excellent with not just our kids, but one by one, little neighborhood friends came by to see what all the fuss was about, and he was a friend to all. 

  “What’s his name, mister?” one said.

  I looked at the girls who looked back at me in anticipation. “We’re still learning his personality. His name will come.”

  They seemed satisfied with that and no one, aside from me, called him Phillip.

  The first few nights were not magical. He cried like a brand new puppy at the prospect of being alone in a bed. We hoped to avoid this by adopting an older dog and gated the master bathroom so he could see us. His howling and barking was amplified by the small room. The sound projected directly to our bed and into my wife’s ears. From there it went from her elbow to my ribcage. When barking didn’t work, he howled, and then he began clawing and biting at the molding around the doorway. Well into the second sleepless night, my wife had suffered enough, and the dog got its way.

  “I never wanted the damn dog anyway.” She said.

  “Foot of the bed,” I demanded.

  “Whatever. As long as he shuts his big yap.”

  “My ribs will appreciate it.”

  Content with this new arrangement, he chose to curl up at my feet and snored peacefully.

  In the morning, he bounded up and down the length of our bed, hungry and needing to go out. This became our routine. Down the stairs we’d go for his breakfast and a morning walk. Phillip waited for me to lead and seemed like he’d had some training, responding to several verbal commands right away.

  Stubbornness surfaced as he grew comfortable in the surroundings, which was understandable. He challenged anything and everything while learning his boundaries, and he continued to destroy things when we left him alone. A dog door and a backyard fence fixed that, giving him the run of the backyard while we hammered the rules for inside.

  Given the new ability to run on his own, walks were given sparingly as treats and before long, we were a family again, but a family of five instead of four and a dog.