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Dogs have been called man's best friend. They offer unconditional affection and loyalty to the humans whom they choose to adopt.

But sometimes they can be downright aggravating.

One example is Tracker, the newest member of my family. He adopted us last fall when I visited the Maury County Animal Shelter in search of a family pet.

Before we moved to Tennessee, we'd had a couple of bad experiences with dogs. Our long-time family dog, Deadline (yes, that was her name) became ill and died. The next dog turned out to be too rough for the children.

But after moving here, we were all prepared for another dog. We fenced the back yard and included a fenced-in area for a dog. The boys were a good age for a dog, so the timing was right.

Tracker is a very entertaining dog. He puts on daily shows in his pen, playing with his food and water dishes or some of his toys. If you're working at the kitchen sink, you can see him out the window. His performances take some of the drudgery out of kitchen sink work.

He is a mixed-breed dog, although he appears to be mainly Labrador Retriever. Like many dogs, he is both incredibly intelligent at times, but also does some dumb things.

For example, he senses when he is going to the veterinarian. The last trip was quite an adventure. He saw me coming with the leash, put two and two together, and went into full reverse thrust.

Tracker is not a small dog. He weighed in at 71.5 pounds at the veterinarian's office. As I tried to get him to move, he refused to budge. No irresistible forced was going to affect this immovable object.

So, I picked up all 71.5 pounds of dog and took him to the car. The veterinarian's assistant and I somehow got him where he was supposed to go.

The purpose of the appointment was to neuter Tracker so that he would not contribute to the animal overpopulation problem. We keep Tracker inside the fence and don't intentionally let him run free - emphasis on intentionally.

When it was time to pick him up after the operation, he again wouldn't budge - and who could blame him? He would be a mighty sore dog for a few days.

He's usually very cooperative, although he teases us. When my wife, Cheryl, attempts to coax him back into his pen, he plays a game with her. He usually runs all over the yard and heads for the gate to the pen, only to turn away. After a few minutes of this, he senses when Cheryl has hit the boiling point and then calmly trots into the pen.

But even Tracker can run on impulse. After all, he is an animal, I must remind myself.

Last week he struck up an acquaintance with Duke, a neighborhood dog who was running loose. Duke is the size of a small horse. Large dogs like Duke are common in my neighborhood. One next-door neighbor has a Saint Bernard.

During feeding time one morning, a gate was left open and Tracker bolted. He socialized with Duke and the two of them took off together. I was at work at the time and Cheryl pondered whether she should try to separate them. She wisely didn't make the attempt. Two huge dogs can be formidable.

I didn't know about it until she called me shortly after deadline. I went home and the search was on. We found out that Tracker's companion, Duke, had been seen near the Nashville Highway. I was horrified. Visions of dog-car accidents went through my mind.

For some reason, Tracker has always been afraid of cars. He came to our house when he was a puppy. When we first took him on walks, he would hunch down and freeze whenever a car came by. I hoped he would do the same and avoid being hit.

When I was a child, my dog ran off and never returned. I never got another one until I was an adult. I hoped history would not repeat itself.

After a quick lunch, we loaded up the van and headed around the neighborhood, asking about the dog and driving around yelling his name. Some folks must now think we're crazy. How many sane people drive around at 10 m.p.h. yelling "Tracker" at the top of their lungs?

Duke returned to our yard, and I wished that he could talk. We continued searching and followed a few leads provided by neighborhood kids. One lead sent me walking into two feet of weeds in my suit. We became discouraged and were ready to give up.

One of my boys said a prayer out loud, asking God to help us find Tracker. We made one last past through the neighborhood.

Cheryl spotted him first. He was hanging around a garage. We stopped the van and jumped out, yelling his name in joy. He ran up to us, apparently glad to see us. We took him home and made sure all of the gates were secure.

Cheryl remarked that seeing him through the kitchen sink window was indeed a pleasant sight.

We've just started our adventures with Tracker. We hope he'll be part of our family for many years.

And one of these days I'll figure out a way to get him to the veterinarian. Maybe if I took Duke along for the ride ...

Copyright © 1997 Timothy M. Wood All rights reserved. Reproduction, re-transmission and storing without permission is prohibited.

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