Things I Tell My Wife by Matt Knutson

Rochester resident Matt Knutson is the communications and events director for United Way of Olmsted County.

“You can’t be mad at the dog,” I reminded my wife as we came home to discover Beesly outside of her bed. Our goldendoodle has begun showing rare signs of poor behavior this last week, and Sera’s starting to reach her limit. I don’t think me suggesting she shouldn’t be mad at the dog is helping.

Every morning, well before we leave for work, Beesly goes into her bed and patiently waits for us to come zip her door closed. She’s the kind of dog that loves her bed, so she’s often hanging out in there no matter if we are home or away. When we were first training her as a puppy, we taught her that her bed was her safe place, and I’m grateful she took to it so well. A lot of times if we are leaving in a rush, we still come home to find her laying in her bed — almost as if she never realized we forgot to lock her away. She doesn’t eat her food, drink her water or even pick up a chew toy when we leave her out unaccompanied, which has always fascinated me.

Now, I’m painting the picture of a pretty nice dog. A well-trained, obedient pup who is incredibly lovable. She is most of those things on most days, but Beesly is also a floppy dork. Goldendoodle’s are known for being fairly intelligent dogs while maintaining a trait of goofiness, which creates a unique combination. When she does something wrong, it’s often like when a 5-year-old little kid messes up. She didn’t mean to do it, but it happened and now she doesn’t know how to make it better.

And that’s exactly what happened when we discovered that Beesly had torn a hole in her bed’s mesh door. We’ve had this bed for well over a year, and she’s never attempted to escape. It was a special Christmas-time purchase because we were looking for a soft crate that could completely collapse for easy travel. Beesly loved it, and so did we. But after the hole first appeared earlier this week, she began pawing at it even more. Soon, it was the size of her head.

Now, when a dog has made a hole the same size of her head, it means she thinks the rest of her can fit through it too. This is exactly how our lovely dog came to escape her bed earlier this week. Her food and water went untouched, as usual, but Beesly did find a few other things to cause my wife’s level of frustration to rise. A bowl sitting in the living room had been licked clean and its accompanying spoon was now several feet away. A diaper and some wipes had been relocated (yet not destroyed, thankfully). The real damage came from a cough drop Beesly somehow found, ate and then spit up. We’re of course adjusted to spit-up from the past few months of being new parents, but we don’t necessarily welcome more of it into our home.

It was all a lot for Sera to take in at once. Our perfect pup was making a few mistakes, and suddenly Beesly seemed like she wasn’t worth the trouble. Thankfully, our little girl would say otherwise (if she had the ability to speak). At 6 months old, Gracelyn adores Beesly more than I thought a baby could. On numerous occasions, I’ve watched my daughter completely ignore my existence when in the presence of her fluffy dog. When Beesly approaches, Gracelyn’s toothless grin becomes wider while her arms and legs begin flailing due to excitement. Beesly has even learned to just stand near our little girl so Gracelyn can firmly grab a clump of fur and hold on until she is otherwise distracted.

Our little girl loves Beesly because she sees her as a friend or member of the family, not a pet. We all have friends and family who have made bad decisions, screwed up now and then. It’s important that we forgive and move past that point, and the same thing holds true when our pup breaks the rules now and then. So maybe me suggesting Sera shouldn’t be upset with Beesly is going too far, but it’s good for us to remember to only be frustrated temporarily. Soon, Beesly will have a new bed to call home and peace (whatever that looks like in our home) will return. Until then, Sera’s grabbing the duct tape and mending the Beesly-sized hole in the dog bed. We’ll get this thing fixed one way or another.