Diamonds, they say, are a Woman's best friend. Dogs auditioned for the role, but nobody likes a panting, barking earring.

So dogs became a Man's best friend, possibly because Man isn't very interested in earrings. Man found kinship with Dog, a simple animal that will whack its head against a sliding glass door when it sees a squirrel, no matter how many times it has already whacked its head against that same glass door.

Diamonds may be the hardest substance on Earth, but a dog's head comes in at a close second.

Fortunately, my girlfriend is also a dog-person. I say fortunately because we just bought a dog together, and that cute little puppy ought to earn me another few months before she remembers that what she really wants is a diamond!

Our dog is a happy, frisky, three-month old Boston Terrier named Caesar. The best trait about Boston Terriers is they are very friendly, they love people, and they almost seem to look guilty when your foot comes down on the poop they hid next to the door and waited all day for you to step in.

I was a little skeptical about buying a dog. I can hardly take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a puppy?

The whole process would have been easier if our dog, Caesar, came with some kind of user's manual. In fact, Caesar was missing some very important warnings, like:

Warning: THIS DOG IS A POOP MACHINE.

The pet store gave us detailed instructions about what to feed the puppy, but failed to explain the food would power Caesar's natural purpose, which is to hide landmines all over my kitchen.

But it really feels great to come home and be greeted by a happy, tail-wagging puppy. You can't help but feel loved; it's a feeling that lasts right up until you step in the happy, tail-wagging puppy's poop.

Warning: THIS DOG WILL PEE ON YOU.

Despite my suggestion that if we stop giving Caesar water to drink then it stands to reason he'll stop urinating on the floor, my girlfriend feels we should have patience as we housebreak our puppy. Personally, I find rubber goulashes more helpful than patience.

Caesar is mostly housebroken, peeing on newspaper about 70% of the time, our living room rug 20% of the time, and the final 10% of the time — peeing in my hand as I scoop him up off the rug and carry him over to the newspaper.

"He's just marking his territory," says my girlfriend. But I fail to see how my hand can be his territory. Besides, we have dog toys all over the house. Don't half-chewed rawhide sticks and slobbery stuffed animals mark his territory well enough? Which reminds me:

Warning: THIS DOG WILL EAT ______ (fill in the blank).

Caesar will try to eat everything, including his own shadow. Puppies will chew because it feels good on their gums, and because they can get away with it. You really can't get too angry at something that looks adorable. Though he has designated puppy chew toys, he ignores them in favor of eating the newspaper we lay out for housebreaking.

Warning: YOU WILL START TO LOOK LIKE YOUR DOG.

I always assumed that people are attracted to dogs that look like them. Big, brutal bikers tend to buy bull dogs or rottweilers. I've never seen a Hell's Angel with a teacup Chihuahua in the sidecar.

But the simple act of owning a dog very quickly makes you look like one. Sometimes, you can't tell me apart from Caesar. I spend most of my time down on all fours (cleaning up doggie messes) and barking out commands like, "Give me back my shoe!" or growling about how he just peed on the tile again. On the upside, I've found that Milkbones really aren't all that bad.

Doubts about raising my little buddy were quickly overcome. You see, Lady had her Tramp, Mickey played with Pluto, and Turner teamed with Hooch. I have a puppy named Caesar. He may pee on me from time to time, but he sure is more fun than a diamond.

Copyright © 2006 Andy Murphy
Please do not remove the copyright from this work.

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