The Outsider: Iggy and our dog from Mars
|By Will Jones - The Outsider | Jan. 24, 2019|
One week after Christmas, my lovely wife and I had the joy of welcoming a new member to the Jones family. We’d been excited for quite a time, obviously, but while we’d promised Little Z the best Christmas present ever, he’d been somewhat unimpressed, especially since this bundle of joy did not turn up on Dec. 25. Now, however, after the arrival, our son was ecstatic; more excited than us, even.
Jeff the dog wasn’t as pleased, though. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that he was and still is quite irked by our new little bundle of joy.
Jeff has always been an overly pampered pet. Since his failure as a hunting dog and adoption into our home he’s adapted swiftly and brilliantly into the life of a family hound. No couch has been untested, no garbage bin uninvestigated. He shuns his kibble if there is a hint of leftovers from the Sunday roast and howls like, well like a hound, when left at home alone. Jeff sees himself as the centre of our universe, the canine sun around which we orbit, and so, when Iggy arrived, he was quite put out, downright jealous, no less.
Yes, Iggy, great name, eh, for a lizard. Oh, you thought we’d had a baby. Ha ha! No, Iggy is a young bearded dragon. Eight inches of cricket munching dinosaur who now resides in a tank in the middle of our living room. He - we think he’s a he but can’t be sure just yet – doesn’t do much. He lays on his branch, chomps on a cricket, stretches, then lays back down again but his beady little eyes are always alert and the potential that he might eventually move, a bit, makes him endlessly fascinating to everyone apart from Jeff the dog.
Jeff sees us gawping at Iggy and is annoyed. He whimpers and ‘rawrffs’ his displeasure and if we don’t look around, he pushes between us and the lizard’s glass tank, putting his body in front of us and blocking our gaze. Jeff paws at us and pushes his head against our legs, he’s suddenly a real whiny attention seeker and if his demands are not met, he slinks off to some corner – one with a couch preferably – and finds something valuable to chew on.
There was even one instance when I returned from work to find Jeff standing, nose pressed against Iggy’s tank, staring intently at the little lizard who stared beady-eyed back. There was no howl of greeting for me, no bounding excitement at my arrival, just dog and lizard locked in unblinking eye contact.
It was then I knew something drastic had to be done and so I went online and found a psychotherapist in the US who deals in canine/reptile disputes.
Ha ha, really? Come on. I had you for a moment, though, didn’t I?
I actually gave the dog a swift kick and moved the tank. Ha ha, I did it again. No dogs were kicked in the making of this column.
No, actually I do not know what to do. I have a ridiculous, jealous hound and a fascinating lizard. I have what’s known as a first world problem, I think. It’s a petty problem I guess but one that you’ll hear more about, I’m sure.
WILL JONES - is The Outsider