All Dogs Go to Heaven, Padfoot goes to Puerto Rico
I’ve written a lot about my weird, totally high maintenance, but ultimately totally lovable dog, Padfoot. Padfoot traveled with me to Argentina, and then back again. I never really got the feeling that Padfoot liked Argentina much. He seemed a bit more high-strung while we were there. When I considered the consequences of moving a dog to Puerto Rico , I expected the same sort of reaction.
Turns out, Padfoot’s a total beach bum
Padfoot is afraid of so many things. He’s the kind of dog who runs from remote controlled cars and barks at his own reflection. I assumed that when I took him to the beach for the first time, he would get super upset about the moving water and bark at it incessantly until I had to just give up and take him home.
Nope. He freaking LOVES the beach. He can’t get enough of it. Oddly enough, he mostly ignores the water. I’ve tried to coax him into swimming, but he mostly just follows me into the water with a look of great concern, as if he’s going to save me, but then the waves slightly lift him and he’s like “nah man, I’m out.”
I’m not Lassie, man. Save your damn self.
Instead of playing in the water, Padfoot divides his time between digging like crazy and chasing lizards that creep through the mangroves. I wish I was less selfish and could tell you I take Padfoot to the beach with me every time I go, but that would be a lie. You know why? Because when Padfoot is on the beach, only one of us gets to have fun. This is how beach days go:
Padfoot: BEACH BEACH BEACH! What is beach? I LOVE BEACH! Digging! Digging is so fun. WAS THAT A LIZARD? GET THE LIZARD GET IT GET IT GET IT! Let’s run ALL DAY and forever until the end of time!
Me: I just want to read this book. STOP PULLING ON THE LEASH. Oh my God, if you do not stop barking…WHY ARE YOU THROWING SAND ALL OVER ME? Is that a dead lizard? Seriously Padfoot, could you NOT?!
Puerto Rico + Padfoot = hunting bliss
People laugh when I tell them that Cairn Terriers were bred to hunt. Padfoot has a pretty doofy face (and demeanor) so imagining him being a successful hunter is pretty hilarious. His lack of skills, however, does not stop him from trying. While I am constantly plagued by and running from iguanas, Padfoot is actively seeking them out. He barks at the roof. He tries to climb trees. He loses his shit every time he sees one of these things, which is usually multiple times a day.
Just look at Padfoot trying to attack this jerk of an iguana:
Sometimes Padfoot will spend a good hour just looking at trees that he smells iguanas in, and he loves every freaking minute of it.
I’m watching you, iguanas!
Soaking up the rays
Padfoot has a very specific morning routine. As soon as he hears Pedro and I stirring, he wedges himself between us and steals Pedro’s pillow.
Once we emerge from the darkness of our bedroom, the Caribbean sun assaults our eyes with deadly force. While I shield my face, Padfoot bolts out the door. After attending to his business, he sunbathes for about 20-40 minutes.
That’s right. Padfoot sunbathes
You think I’m making this shit up? Every freaking morning this dog stretches out and soaks up the rays like he’s freaking Wall-E charging up his operating system. I’ve never seen my dog happier in his entire 9 years of existence.
Not dead, just really rocking this sun nap.
Awww yiiss, that’s the shit I do like.
Padfoot has adjusted better than I have
Moving to Puerto Rico was a lot harder for me than I expected it to be. I’ve struggled with mundane things, dealt with people treating me like an idiot when they saw my Missouri ID, and almost lost my shit dealing with bureaucracy. I often remind people that living in Puerto Rico is very different than vacationing in Puerto Rico. My life is not all sunshine and beaches. Padfoot’s life, on the other hand, seems to be exactly that. Toss in all the incredible smells, random animals we see on our neighborhood walks, and iguana hunting, and this just might be Padfoot’s idea of heaven.
Cheers to my globetrotting dog finding his place in the world.
