Ruffly Speaking

I intended to make Leah take him home.
    Then Stephanie came striding out of the kitchen. “Leah! And this must be the famous Rowdy! Isn’t he beautiful! What a treat!”
    As always, Ruffly was prancing off leash at Stephanie’s side. He wagged his tail, folded those ridiculous wings of ears, and made the bold move of looking in Rowdy’s direction. Leah, too busy giving Stephanie a warm smile and a charming apology for being late to pay attention to the uninvited guest she’d brought, held Rowdy’s leather lead loosely in hand. Before I could grab it, Rowdy took a powerful step toward Ruffly, sniffed briefly, then veered to the side, bounded, tore the lead from Leah, dashed across the deck, and, in one swift pass, grabbed the untouched chunk of cheddar and vanished beneath the half-set table.
    Stephanie proved herself a real dog person. “He’ll choke! Holly, if he tries to swallow all of that— Don’t you think you should—”
    “He’s fine,” I assured her. “If Rowdy had been Jonah, t he whale would’ve ended up in his stomach, and he wouldn’t have brought it up again, either.”
    No matter what God ordered. Gospel. Seriously. From the First Book of Rowdy, chapter 2, verse 10: And the Lord spake and spake and spake unto the Alaskan malamute, but, as usual, it didn’t listen to a single word She said.
     

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     Stephanie would probably have made excuses for the whale, too. “Rowdy knew it was a party, didn’t you, big dog? But no one offered you anything.” The fiend sat in mock submission at my left side, his ears flattened against his head, his dark eyes at work on Stephanie. “So he made himself at home,” she continued. “What a beautiful dog! Look at that face! You can see how sorry he is.”
    To understand a breed, understand its origins: Alaskan malamute, ultimate master of the snow job. Rowdy gently rested his right forepaw in Stephanie’s outstretched hand. I couldn’t actually see him tense the muscles to create the illusion of a human handshake, but I knew he was doing it.
    “Sweetheart!” Stephanie gushed. “I am so sorry that we hurt your feelings.”
    By now, Leah had transformed the stiff gathering into a party. On the lawn just below the deck, where Doug had started the charcoal, Leah muttered something to the men, and Doug’s and Matthew’s laughter and Steve’s rumbling chuckle emerged from one of those gray clouds of barbecue smoke that reek of male bonding. Delegated to ferry food from kitchen to grill, Leah dashed up the stairs and across the deck. Rita, who’d been clearing away wineglasses, reappeared, followed by Leah, who carried a platter of raw steak.
    “The rice must be almost done,” Stephanie said. “Rita, Leah has forgotten the salmon. It’s in a bowl in the refrigerator. Could you take it out? And Holly, maybe you could toss the salad.”
    While I was adding croutons and Stephanie was draining the rice, the phone rang. Rowdy, on a down-stay at my feet, ignored the soft burr, but Ruffly tore to the telephone, then dashed to Stephanie, who deposited the colander in the sink and made for the phone, clapping her hands. “Good boy, Ruffly! What a good dog!” Rita always removed the aid from her left ear before she used the phone, but Stephanie just answered. As she did, she reached into the jar on the counter, extracted a tiny dog biscuit, and tossed it to Ruffly, who sat expectantly on his haunches. He caught it neatly. Catching sight of Rowdy, whose drool was forming a slimy pool at my feet, Stephanie tucked the phone under her chin, reached back into the jar, sent a treat whizzing directly into Rowdy’s mouth, and gave Ruffly unearned seconds. “My carpets do not need cleaning, and this is the Fourth of July,” she told the caller, “but thank you.” She hung up. “The phone is not Ruffly’s favorite sound. After he does his work, all that happens is that he loses my attention, so we have to make sure there’s a little something extra in it for him. Otherwise, he gets lazy.”
    Too moral to train with food? Consider that when a dog’s performance really counts—hearing for someone, Pulling a wheelchair, detecting arson by sniffing out hydrocarbons—the basis of training is virtually always food lures and food rewards. No food allowed in the obedience ring? In Open and Utility, no leash, either. Does that mean you shouldn’t train with one? Of course not. So love your dog and get results. Train with food. Dog isn’t interested?