My dog is cute
I had a throwaway joke on Facebook the other day that my next column was going to be about how cute my dog is. Why? Because we could all use a break from the coronavirus. And then 200 people liked it and started posting pictures of their dogs and … My dog is cute.
He’s definitely part schnauzer, to the best of my knowledge. I mean, he looks like one, but he’s a “sato” dog, adopted from Puerto Rico. “Sato” is a slang term for mixed-breed homeless dogs in Puerto Rico, and we adopted him through ARF of Mercer (I think? Dunno, my wife was in charge and she’s downstairs and I don’t feel like hollering), and he’s cute. Really, super cute.
We named him Rico. First, my son wanted to name him “Pablo,” but it seemed … wrong to name a Puerto Rican dog Pablo. It’s like a real name. It would be like a Puerto Rican family naming their dog “Peter.” Seemed weird. So one night on NJ101.5 I asked New Jerseyans for a name, saying my son was keen on “honoring” the dog’s Puerto Rican heritage, and a caller came up with duh - “Rico,” and my son liked it, and it stuck.
We had a dog previous to Rico who died three years earlier. His name was Sparky, a wire fox terrier, and he was a fantastic dog. Mean as hell, would bite, but super smart. You could see it in his eyes.
Rico? You can also see his intelligence in his eyes, but it’s not like looking into Sparky’s eyes. You looked into Sparky’s eyes, you could see the wheels turning. You look into Rico’s eyes? On a good day, maybe you see a wheel, but it ain’t turning. Staring into Rico’s deep brown eyes is like looking into the soul of a stuffed animal.
Rico, for all his charms, is dopey as they come. But he is super cute, as I’ve mentioned.
He’s also the most docile dog in canine history. He is incapable of hurting another soul. I’ve seen my kids torture that dog (not to be mean, they think they’re playing) and the worst he does is open his mouth and … yawn. He’s like, “Yo, I do have these teeth - see? - but forget it it’s cool.”
He sleeps in a little doggie bed in a little outcove in our kitchen. Every morning when I come downstairs to start my day, instead of jumping up and down and barking and doing whatever else he could do, he … rolls over and shows his belly.
Really. I walk over to open the gate, and instead of jumping up to greet me, he just flips over, waits for a belly rub, and then when I let him out, he goes right outside to take care of business.
Sure, he’s prone to getting into the garbage can, and yes, he loses his ever-loving mind when one particular mail carrier comes to the door - not all mail carriers, just one individual one - and yep, he’s been know to poop the carpet on a rainy day, but between his cuteness and his gentle nature, I can’t think of a better family pet.
Now, there’s talk in the house of getting Rico a “sister.” A terrible idea, but seems I’m currently outvoted 4-1 on this measure. We’ll see.
In the meantime, he’s a good boy yes he is such a good boy.