Skip to main content

My doopy dog vs. baseball cards III ... or is it IV ... or V?


My dog has three mortal enemies.

You might think I'm going to top the list with the mailman. But he's not alert enough to be aware of the mailman. Sometimes he notices, most times he doesn't.

No, his enemy trio is:

1. Squirrels
2. Baseball cards
3. Christmas

You can imagine how fired up he is at this time of year. There are signs of all three everywhere. Squirrels scattering every time he's out. Shiny Christmas baubles glistening before his very eyes. And the usual cards all over the place. He's a wreck.

I've written before how he's gotten a hold of a few cards and left his personal touch.

But the fact is, he's a lot better now than he was three years ago. Three years ago, he was a cute, little, terrifying pup. I'd come home at this time of year and didn't know what I'd find. He literally ate one-fourth of the Christmas ornaments off our tree one year. I can't even list all the things he destroyed back in his formative doggie years. DVDs, books, rugs, household decorations, stuffed animals, toys, plants, CDs, picture frames ... and baseball cards.

But that was a long time ago. Dodger (yes, he's named after my favorite team, but my sister-in-law named him, not me) is a lot more mature these days. Or as mature as a beagle-basset mix can be.

We have left the house countless times in the last three years, both at Christmas time and any other time of the year, and everything was cool when we returned. He is an excellent house watcher. We pay him handsomely in doggie treats.

Then Saturday came.

We had received some gifts in the mail from the same sister-in-law who named our dog. Since Dodger hasn't even moseyed over to sniff a Christmas present in three years and none of the gifts contained food, my wife didn't think twice about putting the presents under the tree. And there they sat for several days until he was left alone on Saturday.

Sometime while we were away, he regressed into puppy mode -- maybe a particularly nasty squirrel has been harassing him lately, I don't know -- and he messed up the gifts under the tree.

When we returned, there were scattered gifts in various states of undress about six feet from the tree. Most of the damage had been only to the wrapping paper and gift bags, although he had bitten into some shampoo bottle that left a goop spot on the carpet.

My wife ran around yelling "don't look, don't look!" because some of the gifts had been revealed. But it was too late. I saw what was in one of them.

I'm getting me some players I've never heard of before! There were multiple packs pulled out on the rug. But none appeared to be bitten through -- which is a miracle since my dog reacts to a downed baseball card as if you've just plopped raw meat in front of him.

I guess that means my dog IS maturing. Instead of eating the cards, he merely unwrapped them!

Anyway, now the gifts are stored away and the space under the tree will be empty until Christmas Eve. No big deal. The knowledge that I'm actually getting a few cards for Christmas makes up for it.

We weren't the best dog trainers when Dodger was a pup. I had never owned a dog prior to Dodger. My wife was the dog owner growing up but she had never had a dog as hyper and ravenous as this one. Had we known, we would have done things a little differently.

But he's a friendly and happy dog and lots of fun, so we let stuff like this slide.

I just don't know what he has against Christmas.


Dennis said…
I owe your dog a big, fat steak for destroying anything with Gerald Laird on it, the same way Laird destroyed any shred of hope I had for the Tigers while he played for them. WHO'S A GOOD BOY?
carlsonjok said…
I lost a NM 1971 high number to my new puppy about a month ago. I wasn't even mad, because he is so darn cute. Well, as cute as something approaching 100 lbs can be.
Captain Canuck said…
he's probably looking for presents for him.
Never finds any, so he's ticked.
jacobmrley said…
i guess we know who started the war on christmas - and who's winning.
Anonymous said…
We named our dog Griffey. But I have a good reason too.

Only because my wife said I can't name our first born son that.

Oh, and my dog growing up was named Rose (for Jalen not that creepy gambling liar who played and managed for my favorite team)
Maybe he sniffed out a Bryce Harper and that's why he didn't chew up the packs.
I just noticed Emmanuelle made the sidebar.
Kbrewster/90 said…
Great post! Nothing like a dog to add some excitement to your life.

Every see the movie Marley and Me? Sounds like you lived through that a little!

Popular posts from this blog

Stuck in traffic with Series 2

In the whirlwind that has been my life this month, I found myself going absolutely nowhere for a portion of Thursday afternoon. I was in the middle of yet another road trip, the third one this week. This one was for work, and because it was job-related, it became quickly apparent that it would be a waste of time. The only thing that could save it was a side visit to the nearby Walmart to see if I could spot some Topps Series 2. I found it right away, which was shocking as I was pretty much in the middle of the country, where SUVs share the road with tractors and buggies. Who knew that the Amish wanted Series 2, too? The problem was getting back into civilization to open the contents of the 72-card hanger box I bought. The neighboring village is undergoing a summer construction project smack in the middle of downtown. It's not much of a downtown, but the main road happens to be the main artery in the entire county. Everyone -- and by everyone I mean every tractor trailer ha

Heading upstate

  Back in 1999, Sports Illustrated published an edition at the end of the year rating the top 50 athletes of the century for every state.   As a lifelong Upstate New Yorker, I braced for a list of New York State athletes that consisted almost entirely of downstate natives, that is, folks from the greater NYC area and Long Island.   We Upstaters are used to New York City trampling all over the rest of the state. They have the most people, the loudest voices. It happens all the time. It's a phenomenon unique to this state. Heck, there are still people out there who, when you tell them you're from New York, automatically think you're from NYC. They don't think of cows and chickens when they think of New York. But trust me, there are a lot of cows and chickens in New York State. Especially cows.   So, anyway, when I counted up the baseball players that SI listed as the greatest from New York State, six of the nine were from New York City or Long Island. I was surprised all

G.O.A.T, the '80s: 30-21

  I often call this current period of the television sports calendar the black hole of sports programming. The time between the end of the Super Bowl and the beginning of televised Spring Training baseball games is an empty void when I'm looking for something to watch on traditional television. I don't watch the NBA and the NHL on TV holds my interest for maybe a period. College basketball I can't watch until the tournament. This didn't used to be as much of a problem back when I could turn instead to my favorite sitcoms in February. Do you remember when February was "sweeps month"? (Maybe it still is, I don't know). Networks would make sure that every top show aired original episodes that month, no reruns. So you'd always have something to view during the week even when the sports scene was boring. (I know, people have multiple streaming viewing options now. But I find myself going weeks sometimes before I see something I want to view on Netflix or Am