by Hannah Wolf

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THE FIRST TIME I…..

realized my dog was a girl’s worst friend, he was chewing a hole in one of my pink knock-off-Ugg boots. It was mid-winter of fifth grade, and Scout was only a 6-month old, 20-pound puppy. He didn’t stay like this for long. This golden retriever now weighs in over 100 pounds, and stands as tall as I do when he’s on two legs.

My boot was only the beginning of our tragic relationship and his unhealthy diet. Scout quickly moved on to eating anything I left in the mud room. He swallows socks whole, punches holes in soccer balls, and especially loves chewing on winter garments such as scarves and mittens. I once chased him around the whole block just to get my lacrosse mouthguard back, but it was in two pieces and covered in slobber.

We quickly installed an electric fence on the inside of the house to prevent the beast from going upstairs. But I don’t think he has ever felt the shock. He’s still managed to get into my bedroom several times, never leaving without taking something. He once chewed a hole through a padded bra and ripped a hole through a lace shirt with one swat of his giant paw. I actually let Scout sleep in my bed one night, only because it was storming. Stupid idea. He managed to pull the covers off me and eat a hole through my pillow. I’m not sure why, but he has eaten two of my toothbrushes. In the same week.

Scout is also a big fan of the kitchen. One night I left a pan of banana muffins out to cool. I returned to see the pan on the ground, licked clean. He once jumped up to the 4 foot counter and ate every Reece’s Peanut Butter Cup in my Easter basket, foil and all. I know dogs aren’t supposed to eat chocolate, but I’m honestly not surprised he didn’t even get sick. Nothing gets to him.

I know no teachers believe students that say “my dog ate my homework,” but when I bring in half a piece of lined paper with math problems covered in slobber, you better believe me. This dog destroys anything and everything. We don’t have any pillows in our TV room because he’s ripped them all to pieces (and ate the stuffing). I can without a doubt say that Scout is a bigger problem than the golden lab in “Marley & Me.” Congratulations, Scout. Golden Globe for a golden retriever.

My dog is worse than any sibling. He isn’t an annoying sister that borrows clothes without asking; he eats clothes. He isn’t an obnoxious brother who eats one of your brownies for your advisory party; he eats the whole pan. He isn’t a little toddler that gets into drawers in the kitchen; he literally eats the wooden drawer.

However, my dog is also better than any sibling. I take him on six mile runs without a single complaint (that I can understand). There was one time, though, that I forgot to take his shock collar off. I heard that complaint for the first few blocks before I understood. We’ve grown to know each other’s habits pretty well. When I walk downstairs in the dark, I hear him jump up onto all fours so I don’t step on his tail (again). I can never complain about being home alone; this dog’s got my back. He has a history of attacking mail men and strangers, so I know he’d scare off any bad guys. And I know he’s a big guy, but he has an emotional side. He’s the only man I have cuddled up with and cried to “The Notebook.”

Now I know we’ll never be able to go shopping together or bake together. Playing sports is next to impossible with him. We don’t like the same food and don’t watch the same TV shows (he prefers Animal Planet.) We’ve never had a sleepover that didn’t involve a fight. Clearly, this dog cannot be a girl’s best friend. But he comes pretty darn close sometimes.