Bad dog diaries

Anyone who owns a lab knows the trials and triumphs of the breed.

I have a chocolate lab named Baloo, and yes, to all of those who took the Kentucky Achievement test in the 1980s and ’90s, a baloo is a bear.

Boo, as he often is called, seems to take great pride in his mischievous behavior. I will find him at various times during the day sitting on my bed with a sock or dish towel hanging out of his mouth as he waits for me to discover him.

When asked one time what his best trick was, I answered, “stealing the remote.”

He has chewed a corner out of just about every rug, pillow, blanket and towel in my house. As someone who is slightly obsessive-compulsive, the dog has been good therapy.

Boo also weighs close to 100 pounds. That means when we go for a walk, he walks me. I have been dragged face down in the yard, went Boo-skiing one snowy day and have been injured from time to time when he has seen a rabbit or cat in the yard and just had to chase it.

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