Patch: The Dog with Identity Crisis

In human years he's 35.  But since he is a dog, he's only 5 years old. Today.

Meet Patch, our dog with an identity crisis.  Apparently, he doesn't know that he is a dog.  He thinks he is a baby.  Our baby.

We got him from a relative, a tiny gift prone to sleeping and playing.  Five years hence, he is still small, a bit on the heavy side, and still prone to sleeping and playing.  But he has shown some uncanny - or should I say un-canine - behavior that somehow makes us believe that he may not be a dog after all.

It was the first time that my wife and I would have a pet so we really didn't know what to do, especially in the toilet training department.  So he showed us what he should do: Go inside the cage meant to jail him at night, take a pee, or drop a load, then scoot out so he can either sleep or play some more.

With toilet training off our care list he was free to live with us inside the house.  Our next problem was that if he slept with us, in our room, won't he keep us awake all night?  Or maybe take a leak or a poo whenever he felt like it?

His actions allayed this fear.  He slept like a baby and only woke up when we were already up.  And yes, no mess all around.

The next problem was what to do with him when we have to go out of the house.  He told us... hey never worry, just bring me along with you.  And he wags his tail nonstop, and whimpers no end till we give in.

Okay, now that he will come with us, we wonder on whose lap will he settle during the ride?  He says, don't fret my persons, I will come rest on each of your laps until I discover which is the most ideal position for me.

He alternates between my lap and my wife's.  But when he is on mine, it makes it more difficult for me to drive as I have to balance him while moving my legs at the same time.  He looks up at me, and says, you got nice broad shoulders up there, buddy.  And I tell him, hey don't give me that look.  I need to focus on the road.  And he asks, are you having a hard time driving buddy with me on your lap?  No problem.  I'll climb on your chest and rest on your broad shoulders instead, my tail and hind legs on one shoulder, my torso wrapped on your neck, and my front legs and head sticking out on the other, with my tongue wagging like my tail.

And ever since that day that he discovered that sweet spot, he has probably travelled thousands of kilometers that way, sometimes looking at the road for vehicles, sometimes looking out the window for dogs and cats and other four-legged animals and, often, sleeping like a baby.

Patch in Manaoag, Pangasinan

Patch in Baguio

Patch has developed a keen sense of when he will be taken for a ride or to be left at home.  When he knows he is part of the trip he would be jumping and running all over the house, whining, yelping and begging that he be loaded into the car the moment he hears keys being picked up from the table.  But when he knows that he will be left behind, he would slowly walk and hide under the sofa, his eyes hidden underneath his bangs following our every movement until the door closes.

Patch watching Kris cry

And when we return home, he will be a bundle of fur jumping up and down for several minutes until we tell him to calm down.  If I'm taking off my socks, he will pull on it then run around the house with it, inviting me to play catch me if you can.  Unlike most dogs where they run after you, playing catch up with Patch means you go after him.

If I return from a bike ride, he would sniff the wheels of my bike after our welcome ritual is through, as if to say, I'd like to know where you went, buddy.

Having him in the house is joy.  He sneezes at you when he doesn't get what he wants, doesn't drink water unless it's ice-cold, and snuggles between us to have a blanket pulled over him when it is cold.  Often we can hear him snore.  Sometimes he makes funny sounds as he dreams, we know he is having a happy one when his tail is busy wagging as he makes funny sounds.  Often, when I am on the sofa watching TV, he will hop on and drop his head on my legs to take a nap as I stroke his side.

We never taught Patch anything.  We did not teach him to munch on ice cube, or to snack on fresh vegetables - sitaw, cabbage core and pechay stalk his favorites.  We did not even teach him loyalty, or unconditional love.  He just shows us.

We are convinced that he is not a dog  That's why we don't treat him as such.  Our baby is  five years old today.