To know Hank is to love him. Well, unless you don’t particularly have a place in your heart for large dogs. If that is the case, I can’t help you. I, on the other hand, feel like my dog is pretty much perfection in the canine form. Hank is truly one of a kind. He is guarenteed to make you feel like the most special human that has ever exsisted. Yes, Hank is just the cuddliest and most precious boy around.However, as sweet as he is, I am the first to admit that, well, Hank wouldn’t exactly qualify for the gifted program at obedience school. What he has in the love and affection department more than compensates for the shortfall he sometimes has in wits. My friends, Hank, is a slow learner. That might be why he came to find himself in the unfortunate circumstance that arose tonight.
Ryan and I are renting a “two bedroom” house. I don’t really know how the glorified attic complete with an extremely scary and not to code staircase became known as a bedroom, but we’re making it work. Besides, sleeping on a mattress on the floor because the box springs won’t fit up the stairs isn’t so terrible. It’s so college! Yeah! Needless to say the stairs are not so much stairs, but a glorified ladder. I want to make it clear that when walking down these stairs I grip the handrail for dear life and go down sideways because only about a third of my foot fits on each one. I really take my life into my own hands each morning! But I digress, we were talking of Hank. Hank is not usually allowed upstairs, but Ryan and I being the softies that we are, do sometimes make exceptions to this rule and he has come up a few times. It is always kind of pathetic watching our 160 pound dog go down the stairs as it isn’t the most graceful thing in the world, but I’ll admit it cracks us up a good bit when it happens. After catching up on the last three episodes of Modern Family, I turned off the computer and headed up to the attic, I mean, Master Suite, to turn in for the night. Much to my surprise, Hank followed me up. Ryan decided he should take Hank out to go to the bathroom once more. So down he went calling after Hank to come. Hank took one step, retreated and began to whine. After a few minutes of Ryan trying to tell Hank to come down I got up. This was getting ridiculous. He always kind of struggled to get down, but he had never flat out refused. In an exasperated tone I tried telling Hank to go downstairs, but again he didn’t budge. Now, I am used to Hank not really listening to Ryan, but he usually listens to me. Each time we called him Hank acted like he wanted to come down, but stopped after only a step. About 10 minutes later, Ryan decided that the fur on the bottom of his paws needed to be trimmed. He gave Hank a towel to chew on and completed all four paws in record time. Now we were ready to roll! But instead of coming down the stairs with his new slip-resistant paws, he began to bound around the attic with the towel in his mouth, barking like a madman. Um, I don’t think so. Midnight was fast approaching and this dog had to pee. It was time to break out the big guns. And by big guns I mean: The Peanut Butter Bone. Feeling pretty smug about my own brillance, I came to the bottom of the stairs holding the coveted treat. Hank’s nostrils were instantly at attention, but instead of flying down the stairs like I anticipated, he began his most whiny vocal riff of the night. I traveled up the stairs with the bone in an attempt to make it more appealing. I even grabbed his collar to try to lead him down the stairs. Fail. There was nothing we could do. Unless…”Want me to grab the front and you grab the back?” I bent down to take Hank’s large rear in my arms. We lifted Hank up and positioned him above the staircase. I knew how incredibly stupid and dangerous it was to try and carry our dog down this sorry excuse for a staircase, but we couldn’t leave him up there! How would we explain that to the next tenant? Ryan got about three steps down when I lost my grip on the enormous rump, but he had gotten up too much momentum to stop. Ryan carried that dog face first with Hank’s big bottom thumping down each tiny stair. Hank raced to the prized Peanut Butter Bone unfazed and Ryan said, “I wish we could know that he would never do that again.” But the reality was, he would.
The baby gate has now been put up at the bottom of the stairs. The attic is no place to be in a long term situation, no matter how big a dog bed he would have with that mattress that’s on the floor.