A tale of two dogs: blending a new member into the pack

Sadie (left) keeps a close eye on Wilson during play time. PHOTO BY ADAM STEWART | STANWOOD/CAMANO NEWS It’s hard to appear authoritative after leaping from the shower.

The sight of a wet, naked man performing a power stance is comical.

Regardless, my show

of force — or lack thereof

— resulted in 32 nails connected to eight paws skidding to a stop on the hardwood floor.

We were in a standoff.

Sadie rolled onto her back. Wilson cracked a toothy grin.

I laughed, turned around, faded into the steam of the shower and finished rinsing the soap from my hair.

As the newest member of the pack, Wilson hasn’t quite figured out our rules — especially about playing chase in the house. But he’s learning.

My wife, Katrina, and I adopted Wilson from a Camano Island resident. She fostered him through the Camano Animal Shelter Association (CASA) from the time he was a pup. We were looking to find a companion for Sadie, a lab/beagle mix we adopted while living in Minnesota.

The 5-year-old dog has been a bit too comfortable on the couch lately.

One meeting with Wilson at Heritage Park a few weeks ago and we were hooked; the two chased each other in figure eights until tongues dragged on grass.

My wife was smitten with his under bite and curled tail, peculiar traits from his pug side. The rest of his breed, we’re not sure: lab, bulldog, pit bull?

Waiting at a crosswalk during a walk in downtown Bellingham, a fellow pedestrian shot numerous glances our way before asking, “Sorry, don’t take this the wrong way, but what is that?”

“That’s Wilson,” I replied with a shrug.

“Cool,” he said.

That’s what we thought.

Wilson is Wilson; a curious name for a curious mutt. Not only has he rekindled the puppy spark in Sadie, he’s jumpstarted memories of our initial struggles with a newly adopted dog.

Left to run free by her previous owners, Sadie was wild beyond restraint.

Our house in Minnesota had a basement. She didn’t like it and let us know by chewing off the bottom third of the door. Another door slid between the kitchen and living room. She chewed a hole through it.

As we tried to curb her destructive behavior, Sadie was training us.

She needed more exercise, she didn’t need to be isolated.

Walking a dog in minus 30 degree weather wasn’t always pleasurable, but to keep our doors intact, it was necessary. More exercise meant a tired dog, a content dog, while we were away. Doors remained open and unscathed.

As we ease Wilson into our lives, we keep behavioral signals in mind during continuous walks, runs, outdoor games of chase and trips to muddy dog parks.

For me, his arrival also highlights the needs of creatures walking on two legs instead of four. Similar to dogs, humans thrive on companionship. Our independent nature often masks vulnerability. We interchange roles of leadership with spouses, family, friends, co-workers and yes, pets, daily. One minute we lead, the next we follow; it’s reassuring, productive, inspiring and grounding.

Within these relationships we aim to connect, yet the signals aren’t always as apparent as a hole in the door.

They can be serious or subtle. Still, reacting to them is vital.

So, instead of interrupting my morning shower, now I take the dogs for a walk when I get up. I’ve read their signal. They’ve read mine.

Sadie wasn’t the only one getting a bit too comfortable.

Now if I can only get Wilson to stop hiding my wife’s shoes.