The problem with all of this togetherness was that Dutch developed severe separation anxiety and pretty soon, I had to take him everywhere. I tried leaving him in the apartment one time, and he attempted to eat through the air conditioning unit in my apartment to get out. Another time, he broke through a glass window to get out. I had put him in my bedroom, locked the door and even barred it with a chair on the outside of the door. Dutch didn't care about that at all, he went right through the window. I walked into the apartment and I saw the chair still there and I smiled becauseI thought that I finally found a solution to Houdini's magical escapes. I opened the door to the room, and there was nothing but glass everywhere and no Dutch. I found him running around with some other dogs about a mile away, mingling with the pack. He was probably asking them if any of them had seen me.
So then I got an outside kennel and even staked him to the ground. So Dutch, who could jump like a madman, jumped over the kennel, hung himself until he shook loose and was gone. All that I found when I came home was his collar hanging over the top of the kennel. So I made the leash even shorter and covered the top with plywood and even put a rowboat on top of that, and he couldn't escape. But he was still crazy. If I drove by my apartment during the day, I would actually duck down so that he wouldn't see me. I swear that dog had ESP and could tell when I was close by.
So needless to say, if I was around, Dutch was usually around, too. If I was going out on a date, Dutch tagged along. Some girls didn't like that too much, others were dog lovers who didn't mind it . Most were just tolerant of Dutch. But one morning I was arguing with my girlfriend about something and of course it turned into me being selfish and only caring about football and lifting weights and I was like, "What else is new?"And then she did it: She insulted Dutch.
"And another thing, why does that damn dog need to go with us wherever we go?"
"What did you say?"
" That damn dog. Why is he always with us?"
"Yes, damn dog?"
So I grabbed my keys without saying a word , walked out the door, got into my truck and drove off with Dutch in the passenger seat and I never saw her again. Check that, I did see her one more time. I was stopped at red light in town and she saw my truck and walked out into the middle of the street and put both middle fingers up at me and mouthed something to the effect of me being the greatest thing that ever happened to her. I think that was what she was saying.
So yes, it irritated me that she insulted Dutch and it irritates me a little still, twenty some years later. I mean, he was my dog, man. And I knew that people would come and go in my life, but that Dutch would always be there, looking out the window of my old Ford Ranger, waiting for me to finish what I was doing so that we could hang out some more.