Liz sent me and Julie the cutest picture of her Dad, Dr Tom’s dog, Oz , a beautiful black lab lying on the floor and looking up at her with a fluffy stuffed dog in his mouth.

Julie couldn’t stop talking about how cute he was. David too is a real Oz lover. He thinks that Rupert is a snarky little piece of shit while Oz is every man’s idea of what a dog should be.

In terms of expectation, David is correct. He was purchased not only as a pet but as a service dog so you gotta know he cost big bucks. In his job specs he was supposed to know everyone in the family and bring them what they needed, a newspaper, a dropped pair of glasses, I don’t know exactly, just be a sweet little helper.

When he first got there he performed admirably.

“Need a paper, Dr. Tom?  Here goes.”

“Don’t bother bringing my bowl in, Doc, I got it” and he’d carry his bowl into the kitchen. If he didn’t actually put it in the dish washer he’d drop it close by. The family was delighted with him. He was a thoroughbred as opposed to Rupert whose only job was to look cute. One, in my  humble opinion he does beautifully.

So when things went missing around the house  no one looked at Oz what with his fancy ass credentials.

At first it was only small things like spoons and forks. they learned to live with that. “Service for 7? No problem”  But then it was bigger things, shoes, electrical appliances what have you.

The family didn’t exactly look at each other with suspicion but the safe haven of home was a bit tarnished.

UNTIL

The gardener was weeding the flower bed when he came across Oz’s cache. The missing forks, spoons, a microwave oven, and the rest, they were all there.

They  knew it was him because his paw prints were all over the place.

Now here’s the surprise. Did the family  turn away from him? Did they act even a little disappointed? After all they had spent a pretty penny on Jeeves only to get Bugsy.

No. They thought it was clever and adorable.  That’s why, instead of being sorry when he realized the jig was up, he decided that he could relax in the chore department.

Now if you call Oz when he’s taking a nap, instead of rushing to your side “Need anything doc?” he turns over opens one eye and gives you a “Later, Pal, I’m catching forty” look.

He still brings his plate in but only to suggest they refill it.

It should be noted that Rupert, the “snarky little piece of shit”, sits on command and comes when you call.

So that’s the tale of Oz. Is there a moral here? If so, I don’t know what it is.

By the way, today is my thirty eighth anniversary.