Tug and his Merrick Super Phat Flossie

Dogs love treats. The thought of tasty nugget of deliciousness as a sidebar to their normal eating routine is enough to make just about any dog salivate and launch its tail into a wild wagging frenzy. I have had dogs who only acknowledged my existence when I had a treat in my hand. Fortunately, Tug likes hanging out with me even when I’m not the bearer of treats. Tug, like any dog, loves a good snack.  His issue, though, is that he becomes a lurker once he receives a treat.

Tug does not devour his snacks in the typical 0.22 seconds like most dogs.  He likes to hold onto his treat and lurk from room to room like a ninja becoming aware of his surroundings.  He’ll tiptoe across the room and stand with his back to the wall and stare into the room to see who is watching him.  He does this no matter if there are other dogs or people around.  With the droopy eyes and oversized head, he looks like one of the card-playing dogs from the well-known tapestry or even Winston Churchill. It’s really amusing when he goes into a dark room at night and just stands in the middle of the room, treat dangling from his mouth. Sometimes he’ll stand behind a doorway or piece of furniture and peek his beach ball-sized head around the corner to see who is watching him. After a prolonged period of time, he’ll hunker down to savor (more like devour) his snack.

A couple of days ago, I gave Tug one of Merrick’s Super Phat Flossies, an all natural beef tendon more than a foot long. Tug’s mouth was watering on overdrive, with twin drool streams hanging from either side of his mouth. He took the spiral shaped tendon in his mouth and quietly lurked around the house. He went from room to room, watching the other two dogs tear into their flossies like the hare in the Aesop fable.  In true tortoise fashion, Tug took the next 20 minutes to find the perfect corner of the house to enjoy his treasure. He laid down, head facing the corner, and put on his magician hat. The Super Phat Flossie disappeared in about 3 seconds.

It’s entertainment at its best, and usually better viewing than what’s on TV. Gosh, I love that dog.

Merrick Treats, Tug Flossie, Treats, Tug

Winter is gone and spring is here. The arrival of the warm weather also marks the beginning of an annual tradition at our house that we call Shedapalooza. It’s the time of year when Tug loses his hair faster than the Detroit Lions lost football games last year. (For those with short memories, the Lions were the first-ever NFL team to finish the season 0-16.)

It is absolutely “mind bottling,” to quote Chazz Michael Michaels, to try to grasp how much fur this long-haired St. Bernard has and doesn’t have on his body. Tug gets brushed pretty regularly, but this time of year is absolutely amazing to watch –and endure. The floor gets vacuumed twice daily, and the collection canister on the vacuumed gets emptied twice per cycle. It also should be noted that vacuum cleaners meet their demise at my house this time of year. And no matter how much of an accomplishment I feel after taking the vacuum for a spin around the fur field, the feeling is always quickly unraveled as I plop down on the couch and watch a Tuggleweed (think great big ball of fur) casually rolls across the floor to spawn yet another crop of vacuum busters.

The ultimate encore of Shedapalooza is when Tug stops in the middle of the room, and in slow motion—really slow motion, just like the movie Beethoven—Tug steadies himself and begins one of his earth-rattling shakes that sends fur and drool flying from floor to ceiling in every direction imaginable. I call this “little” maneuver the Tugnado. It’s eye watering on so many levels. It’s all I can do put myself between him and the 60-inch TV. I will sacrifice my body for the TV—especially with the NCAA Tournament underway right now.

This year’s Shedapalooza may have a different ending. This week, which seems to be the height of the season, I took Tug to our local groomer. I expected them to give him a good bath and spend a lot of time brushing out his undercoat, which they did. They also bathed him what I can only call some sort of Wonder Tonic. They bathed him twice with a couple of cycles of FURminator. It’s really called that, no kidding. It is pretty amazing stuff, and has practically eliminated the need for vacuuming since his trip to the groomer three days ago. And no Tugnadoes yet this year! Though they are sort of special, I don’t think I’ll be heartbroken if I don’t get to witness one this year.

The reduced shedding combined with the Merrick Elements diet, Tug is enjoying his best spring ever as an adult. He is more active and playful—almost puppy-like—since he started eating Merrick dog food. The Elements additives also seem to be having a significant influence on his joints and breath. The breath is the most obvious improvement. I don’t flinch or wince when he wants to get face-to-face with me. The improvements on his joints, though, have been really noticeable. Tug seems more spryly and playful and is engaging other dogs in play rather than other dogs trying to engage him.

Tug Merrick dog food, Merrick Elements, Tug