Chapter 2 first part

first part At that time, we were young and bathed in love.During those marvelous early days of our wedding, when we laughed and romped, life seemed to show its best picture. We are like glue, almost inseparable for a moment. It was one evening in the summer of 1991, and my wife of fifteen months and I had a quick dinner before we responded to a classified ad we'd seen in the Palm Beach Post. I'm not entirely sure why we do this.The cause of the matter has to go back a few weeks ago.That day just after dawn, I woke up from my sleep and found that the other side of the bed was empty.I got up, looked around for Jenny, and found her in her pajamas, sitting at a glass table in the hallway of our cabin, bent over a newspaper and holding a pencil.

There was nothing unusual about this sight. The Palm Beach Post is not only our local newspaper, it is the source of half our family income.We are a couple who work for two newspapers respectively.Jenny is a feature writer for the Palm Beach Post, and I'm a reporter for the Sun Guardian, a South Florida rival paper, The newspaper is located about an hour south of Fort Lorddale.Every morning, we start by browsing the newspapers, to see what stories are going on in the life around us every day, and to see how the two newspapers compete with each other.We frantically circled, underlined, and clipped.

However, what Jenny was interested in this morning was not the news section, but the classified ads.As I got closer, I saw that she was drawing a circle under the title "Pets—Dogs" with great excitement. "Honey," I said in my new husband's soft voice, "is there anything I should know?" She didn't answer. "Jenny?" "It's a plant." She finally spoke, but her voice seemed to be full of despair. "Plant?" I asked a little puzzled. "The plants that don't speak," she said, "are killed by us." Killed by us?I didn't quite understand it for a while, but according to the "historical records", what Jenny was referring to should be the plant that I bought for her, but she killed it.One night I brought home a plant as a surprise for Jenny, a lovely Dieffenbachia with variegated leaves in shades of emerald green and beige. "Is today a special day?" she asked.But that day was not a special day.I gave her this plant just to say to her, "Married life is amazing, isn't it?"

She was so delighted with my gesture and the plant that she put her arms around my neck and kissed me on the lips to express her gratitude for my kindness.Then, with killer, hard-hearted efficiency, she quickly killed the gift I gave her.Of course, she definitely didn't do this on purpose, it's just that anything she raised would inevitably die a tragic fate in the end.Jenny really doesn't have the talent for nurturing greenery.Here's how she works: All living things need water.However, she apparently forgot another principle, that is: they also need air.She began to water the Dieffenbachia every day.

"Be careful not to water too much," I reminded her. "Okay," she replied, and poured another gallon of water. The more water she watered, the sicker the plant became, until eventually it disappeared into a muck.I looked at its limp limbs in the clay pot by the window and thought, "My God, those who believe in omens should have expected this plant to wither and wither." Now, her thinking logic somehow jumped from a withered plant in a clay pot to a live animal in a pet classified advertisement. "If you kill a plant, buy a puppy." Of course, the idea makes sense.

I moved closer and looked more closely at the paper in front of her, and noticed that one advertisement in particular seemed to pique her interest.She drew three big red stars next to the ad."Labrador puppy. Yellow. Purebred certified by the American Kennel Club. Bloodline guaranteed," the ad read. "So," I said, "if I buy another pet like that plant, will you be able to keep it?" "You know," she said, looking up, "I've tried my best, but look what's going on? I can't even keep a dead houseplant alive. I mean, grow a How hard can a plant be? All you need to do is water it."

Then she got down to the real thing: "How can I expect to raise a child if I can't even raise a plant?" She looked like she was on the verge of tears. The question of the child had become a constant consideration in Jenny's life, and every day it became more imminent and important.When we first met at a small newspaper in western Michigan, she was just a few months out of college, and serious adult life seemed a distant concept.For the two of us, this is our first official job after leaving campus.We ate a lot of pizza and drank a lot of beer, never thinking that one day we would say goodbye to this young, single, unfettered life of eating pizza and beer.

However time passed.Different job offers made it almost impossible for us to date normally, because I was in a year of graduate school, which separated us in different parts of the eastern United States.In the beginning, we were just an hour's drive apart.Later, we had to drive three hours to be able to meet.Then came eight hours, then twenty-four hours.She was in her late thirties when we finally settled down in South Florida as a married couple.And her friends are already mothers.Her body was sending her strange messages, which seemed to imply that her chances of having a baby were decreasing every year.

I leaned behind her, put my arms around her, and kissed her hair. "It's okay." I reassured her.But I have to admit, she asks a good question.Neither of us had ever really raised a life in our respective lives.Sure, we had pets growing up, but they didn't really count.Because we always know that parents will take good care of them.We both know that one day we too will have children of our own, but are we really up to this new role as parents?Raising children is, after all, so... so intimidating.They are so helpless, so fragile, and they seem to be easily broken if they fall.

A smile broke out on Jenny's face. "I thought maybe raising a puppy would be a good pre-parenting experience," she said. We drove in the dark, heading northwest of the city, where the suburbs of West Palm Beach were, and the country houses scattered in the suburbs gradually revealed their silhouettes in the night.I think our decision tonight means a dog will come into our family.That's a lot of responsibility, especially for two people with full-time jobs.However, we know what we are after.We both grew up with dogs and absolutely love them.I used to have a St. Sean, and Jenny had a St. Winnie, her family's beloved setter.Almost all of our happiest childhood memories are spent with those dogs: hiking with them, swimming with them, playing with them, getting into trouble with them.If Jenny really just wanted a dog to teach her parenting skills, then I'd try to talk her out of it, maybe comfort her with a goldfish.But just as we know that one day we will have children, we know with equal certainty that our family life is not complete without a dog sprawled at our feet.When we were dating, we would spend hours talking about our childhood pets, how much we missed them, how we longed for the day when we had a house we could call our Own house, and once we have settled down a little bit - have a dog again.

Now, we have both.We live together in a place where we plan to settle permanently.And, we have a house we can call our own. It was a perfect little fenced-in house on a quarter-acre lot, perfect for a dog.And the location is excellent, too, with a pristine neighborhood a block and a half from the Intracoastal Waterway that separates West Palm Beach from Palm Beach's sparse apartment complexes.Our street is called Churchill Road, and at the other end of the road a long strip of green parkland and paved paths run for miles along the Docklands.This is ideal for jogging, cycling and roller skating.More importantly, this living environment is also very suitable for walking dogs. The house was built in the 1950s and has old Florida character—a fireplace, rough stucco walls, large, airy windows and French doorways that lead to our favorite spaces— - Screened back porch.The yard is a small characterful port, filled with palms, pineapple, avocado trees and brightly colored coleus bushes.The most eye-catching among them is a towering mango tree; every summer, the heavy fruits on the tree will fall to the ground with a bang. That sound that was made.We love lying in bed with our eyes open and listening to that mango drop: bang!boom!boom! We purchased the two bedroom, one bathroom house, and we set out to repaint it a few months after we returned home from our honeymoon.The previous owners of this house, a retired post office civil servant and his wife, were very fond of green.The stucco painted on the outside of the house is green, the walls inside the house are green, the curtains are green, the shutters are green, the front door is green and the carpet they bought just to help sell the house is green .The green they use, however, is not a pleasant emerald green or a cool emerald green, or even a bold lime green, but a green that will make you puke out your insides. The green of pea soup with russet accents.So, the place feels like an army camp. We tore the brand new green carpet to shreds and dragged it to the side of the road the first night we lived in the house.Where the rug had been, we found a plank of clean oak, a floor that never seemed to have been bumped by a single shoe.We sanded and varnished very hard to give this floor a very shiny finish.Then we went out and looked around for a new rug.We ended up spending two weeks' salary on a Persian area rug woven on a handloom, which we placed in front of the fireplace in our bedroom.We spent many months repainting every green surface and replacing every green accessory.The post office civil servant's house slowly became our own home. Of course, once we've done this replacement work, the next meaningful thing we have to do is to put a four-legged, sharp toenails and huge teeth, with extremely limited English skills. and he would start tearing the new Persian rug to shreds again. "Slow down, don't run fast like a dingo, or you'll miss him," Jenny scolded, "It could show up at any moment." We were driving through the dark night, through This former swamp.After World War II, the swamp was drained and used for farming or cattle ranching, and later colonized as a suburb in search of a rural lifestyle. As Jenny predicted, our car's headlights soon illuminated a mailbox marked with the address we were looking for.I turned into a gravel driveway that led to a large wooden house with a pond in front and a barn in the back.A middle-aged woman named Lori was standing outside the door to greet us, and beside her stood a quiet yellow Labrador, a large hunting dog that can retrieve prey Types of hounds. After we introduced ourselves, Lori said, "This is Lily, proud mother." We could tell that five weeks after giving birth, Lily's belly was still swollen and her nipples were protruding.We all got down on our knees, and Lily happily accepted our affection for her.She was exactly what we would expect a Labrador to be — sweet-tempered, affectionate, calm, and breathtakingly beautiful. "Where's father?" I asked. "Oh," said the woman, hesitating for a second, "that guy who likes to run around? He's somewhere around here." She quickly added, "I guess you're just impatient." I really want to see the puppy." She led us through the kitchen to a utility room that had been designed as a nursery.Newspapers were strewn across the floor, and in one corner of the room, a low cardboard box contained an old beach towel.However, we hardly notice these.When nine tiny yellow puppies staggered and yelled to test the two recent strangers, our eyes were all on these cute little fellows, how could it be possible? Notice anything else?Jenny gasped in surprise. "Oh, my God," she said, "I don't think I've ever seen such a lovely little thing in my life." We sat on the floor and let the puppies crawl on top of us while Lily happily hopped around, wagging her tail and sniffing each of her babies to make sure they were ok.When I agreed to come here with Jenny, my original thought was to check on the puppies, ask some questions, and be in a pending state of mind as to whether or not we were going to bring a puppy home. "This is the first ad we respond to," I once said to Jenny, "let's not make any hasty decisions." But, within thirty seconds of being here, I knew I was beaten up.There is no doubt that one of these puppies will be ours before the night is over. Lori is a backyard animal breeder.We're complete newbies when it comes to buying a purebred dog, but we've read a lot about it and know how to avoid the so-called puppy mills.Those commercial breeding and operation factories try their best to produce purebred dogs.However, mass-producing purebred puppies, unlike mass-producing cars, brings with it serious genetic problems caused by multiple generations of inbreeding, from hip dysplasia to early blindness. range of diseases. Lori, on the other hand, is a person who is obsessed with raising animals. Her motivation for raising puppies is more out of love than profit.She has only one female dog and one male dog.They were of different bloodlines, and she had papers to prove it.It will be Lily's second and last child before she becomes a pet in a country family to live out her life.Both parents of the pup have a pedigree guarantee and buyers can see the direct lineage - although we didn't get to see the pup's father this time around and he's apparently out and about. Lily's litter included five little bitches and four little male dogs, but among the five little bitches, only one was left, and the other four had been bought.Lori's asking price was $400 for the remaining bitch and $375 for the male.One of the male dogs in particular seemed to be touched by our affection.He was one of the nicest pups of the bunch, and he rushed into our arms, somersaulted on our knees, paws up, grabbed our shirts, and tried to lick our faces.He nibbled on our fingers with startlingly sharp baby teeth, stomped awkwardly on his tawny paws, and circled us. "You can buy that puppy for three hundred and fifty dollars," said the owner. Jenny is a crazy bargain hunter, lugging home all sorts of things we don't want or need because they're too attractively priced to be reject.One day, as she was hauling an old set of golf equipment out of the car, she said to me, "I know you don't play golf. But you won't believe what price I paid for this deal." ’” Now, I see her eyes are twinkling. "Ah, honey," she murmured, "these little ones are on clearance sale!" I have to admit that the puppy is really cute and lively.Before I had time to realize what he was going to do, the rascal had already chewed off half of my watch strap. "We've got to do a panic test," I said.I've told Jenny many times before about my selection of St. Sean's, when I was a little boy and my father taught me to shake the cage suddenly or make a loud noise to throw those Timid dogs are distinguished from confident dogs.Sitting in front of the pack of puppies, Jenny's eyes told me she had reservations about the behavior of the Jrogan family. "Seriously," I said, "this method works." I stood up, walked away from the group of puppies, then turned quickly and walked towards them with a sudden, exaggerated step.I stomped and shouted, "Hi!" But my stranger's exaggeration didn't seem to attract their attention.However, there was a puppy jumping forward, as if fighting.This is a dog that is about to be sold at a clearance sale.He waded toward me through the night mist, lunged at my ankles, and began attacking my shoelaces, as if convinced they were a dangerous enemy that needed to be eliminated. "I think it's fate," Jenny said. "Do you think so?" I asked, picking him up with one hand and holding him up to my face, studying his face.He looked at me with heart-melting brown eyes, and nibbled on my nose.I plopped him into Jenny's arms, and he stared at her with those same magical brown eyes, nibbling her nose the same way. "He seems to like us," I said. So we decided to buy the puppy, and we wrote Lori a check for three hundred and fifty dollars.She told us we could come back in three weeks and take the clearance dog home because he would be eight weeks old and ready to be weaned.We thanked her, patted Lily one last time, and took our leave. As we walked toward the car, I put my arms around Jenny's shoulders and held her close to me. "Can you believe it?" I said excitedly, "We really have a dog of our own!" "I can't wait to bring him home." Jenny seemed more excited and anxious than I was. Just as we were walking towards the car, we heard a commotion in the woods.Something is sprinting through the bushes - and it's breathing so heavily, it sounds a bit like something you hear in a horror movie.And it's coming our way.We froze there for a moment, staring into the dark night.The voice grew louder and closer.Then, in an instant, a vague yellow object burst into the clearing and began to rush in our direction.It's a very large fuzzy yellow object.As he galloped by, he didn't stop and didn't even seem to notice us until we could see it was a big Labrador retriever.However, it was nothing like the sweet and cuddly Lily we just cuddled around the house.The dog was soaking wet and had a belly full of mud.Its tongue was sticking out long enough to hang to one side of its mouth, and its lower jaw was still drooling as it galloped by.For a split second, I noticed a strange, slightly deranged but inexplicably happy look in its eyes, as if the animal had just seen a ghost. Then, amidst the roar of a fleeing herd of bison, the dog ran behind the house and out of sight.Jenny let out a gasp. "I think," I said, feeling sick inside, "that we just met their father." As dog owners, our first serious act is to start a fight. The fight started on the drive home from the breeder and broke out intermittently until the next week.We couldn't agree on a name for this clearance dog.Jenny vetoed my proposal, and I vetoed hers.The battle came to a head one morning before we left for work. "Chelsea?" I said. "It's a chicken's name. It'd be ashamed to name a little male dog Chelsea." "As if he could really know," retorted Jenny. "Hunter," I suggested, "Hunter is a perfect name." "Hunter? You're kidding, aren't you? Are you going on some manly adventurer's journey? That's too masculine a name. Besides, you've never hunted in your life. " "He's a male dog," I said, my blood boiling a little. "He's supposed to be manly. Don't make this into another feminist tirade of yours." Things were not going well at all.I'd just taken off my "boxing gloves" and Jenny was hurt on a kick back, so I wanted to get back to negotiating my primary nominees quickly. "What's wrong with the name Louie?" "Nothing, if you're a gas station attendant," she said sternly. "Hey! Watch out! That's my grandfather's name. I think we ought to name him after your grandfather? Good dog, Bill!" While we were fighting, Jenny absent-mindedly walked over to the "stereo" and pressed play on the tape deck.It's one of the tactics she's used to in her marriage battles.Whenever he was in doubt and not quite sure, he used a voice to drown out the opponent's roar.Bob Marley's lilting reggae tunes blared from the speakers, and the music had an immediate stabilizing effect on both of us. When we moved from Michigan to South Florida, the only thing we found was this Jamaican singer.In this backwater of the Midwest, we find solace and strength in life by listening to the music of Bob Seeger and John Coorg Myronsky.But in this racially mixed South Florida, Bob Marley's music can be heard everywhere, even a decade after his death.We listened to Bob Marley on the car radio as we drove down the Key Biscayne boulevards; We listened to Bob Marley while we ate Jamaican chicken jerky in our small, humble dining room; we ate our first conch slices at a Bahamian festival in Miami's Coconut Grove; We also listened to Bob Marley's music while viewing artwork. The more we searched, the more we fell in love with South Florida, and with each other.In the background, it always seemed to be Bob Marley's music.When we lay sunbathing on the beach, when we repainted the scruffy green walls of our house, when we woke up at dawn to the screams of wild parrots, when we We had Bob Marley music in our ears as we made love in a ray of sunlight streaming into the room through the Brazilian pepper tree outside our window.We fell in love with his music, not just for the music itself, but for what it meant, those big moments in our lives, those sweet moments when we were no longer two and started to become one .As we begin our new lives together in this strange, exotic, chaotic place, unlike any place we've ever lived before, Bob Marley sings Background music in a movie. Now, our favorite song is coming out of the speakers, music so heartbreakingly beautiful, so clear to our ears.Marley's voice fills the room, repeating the chorus over and over. "Is this the love I feel?" We both exclaimed, "Marley!" almost at the same time, as if we had been rehearsing for weeks. "That's it!" I exclaimed. "That's the name we want." Jenny smiled, which was a good sign.I'm going to try the name and see if it suits me. "Marley, come here!" I ordered. "Marley! Squat down! Good boy, Marley!" Jenny chimed in: "You're a guy who'll please pretty girls, Marley!" "Hey, I think that's a catchy name," I said.Jenny thought so too.Our battle is finally over.We have a name for our new puppy. The next night, after dinner, I went into the bedroom where Jenny was reading, and I said to her, "I think we need to make the name a little bit more meaningful." "What the hell are you talking about?" she asked, puzzled. "We all like that name." I have read the registration papers from the American Kennel Club.As a purebred Labrador Retriever with registered parents, Marley is also eligible for registration with the American Kennel Club.If you plan to show or breed your dog, there is nothing more important than a piece of paper, so registration is indeed necessary.However, for a family pet, this move is a bit redundant.For our Marley, however, I have grand plans.It was my first encounter with things of high blood, including my own family.Like my childhood canine companion, St. Sean, I am a mixed breed whose pedigree is not only mundane but also vague.The number of countries represented in my blood is more than the member states of the European Union.This dog is the closest thing I've ever had to noble blood, and I'm not going to miss any chance I can get.I admit I'm a little obsessed with fame. "For example, if we want him to compete," I said, "have you ever seen a champion dog with only one name? They always have a long list of titles, like Dartworth Che Coltenham." "And his master, Mr. Dougsell of West Palm Beach," Jenny said. "I'm serious," I said, "and we can make money by sending him out as stud dogs. Do you know what people pay for top stud dogs? They all have very fancy names." "Go ahead with your wild dreams, dear," said Jenny, and went back to her book. The next morning, after thinking about it all night, I cornered Jenny in the bathroom tub and said, "I've come up with the perfect name." She looked at me suspiciously. "Let's go," she said. "Okay. Are you ready? Listen," I let each word escape my lips slowly, "Jerrogan's... Your Honor... Marley... Churchill." "My God," I thought to myself, "that name sounds like a royal majesty." "My God," said Jenny, "that sounds like a queer name." I didn't mind her sarcasm because I was the one handling the paperwork, and I'd already ink that name in the name box on the document.A few years later, when Jerrogan's honour, Marley Churchill, won top honors at the Westminster Kennel Club's dog show, I was watched by adoring television audiences all over the world Next, lead him to a trot around the field with honor. At that time, we can see who has the last laugh. At that time, Jenny will only have to force a smile. "Come on, my lord king," said Jenny, "it's time for us to have breakfast." As we counted down the days until we could bring Marley home, I started reading about Labrador retrievers, but it was probably too late.I say "too late" because virtually every page I've read gives the same strong advice: Before buying a dog, make sure you've thoroughly checked its pedigree. Investigate, only then will you know what you're about to get. For example, an apartment dweller may not be able to get along with a St. Bernard dog (a breed bred by monks in the Swiss Alps). a breed of dog) get along well; a family with young children may wish to avoid a Chinese domestic dog that is often unpredictable; A border collie (British breed) who needs to run and work to be happy can drive a lazy couch potato out of his mind. I have to admit, with embarrassment, that Jenny and I did absolutely no research before deciding on a Labrador retriever.The only criterion for our selection of varieties is: attraction from the roadside.We often envy people who take their Labrador retrievers for walks or jogs on the Intracoastal Waterway bike paths — big, clumsy, cute — —they seem to love life with a passion not so common in this world.Even more embarrassingly, our decision was not influenced by The Complete Dog Handbook, or any other well-known guidebook, published by the American Kennel Club, which can be said to be "the dog breeder's guidebook." "Bible"".Our decision was influenced by another arguably dog-heavy work of art, The Far Side by Gary Larson.We are huge cartoon fans.Larsen's palette is filled with witty, well-mannered Labradors who do and say some of the most heinous things.Yes, they can talk!Labradors are extremely interesting animals—at least in Larson's paintbrush.And who doesn't want a little more fun in their lives?So we decided to buy a Labrador. Now, as I delve into more serious writing on the Labrador Retriever, I'm reassured that our choices, while not based on extensive and reliable information, are not entirely irrelevant.文学作品中充满了有关拉布拉多猎犬的推介和赞美——它那可爱的、令人倾倒的个性，它对于孩子们的温顺亲切，它不太具有进攻性，以及它渴望去让人感到愉悦。它们的聪明和温驯，使其成为了搜索和营救训练的首选狗种，而且常常被选来作为盲人和残疾人的领路狗。所以，拉布拉多犬也十分适合做一个迟早会有孩子的家庭的宠物。 一条指南出现在了我的眼前：“拉布拉多猎犬因其聪明、对人类的温顺情感、牧场上的灵活以及对任何任务的投入热情而闻名。”此外，它对于饲养者具有令人吃惊的无比忠诚。所有这些特质，都使得拉布拉多猎犬，从因其对被打落的雉鸡和寒冷的湖水里的野鸭的猎获技术而被捕鸟者们所喜爱的专业运动犬，成为了最受美国家庭喜爱的宠物。就在去年，也就是1990年，拉布拉多猎犬便已经击败了英格兰獚猎犬，登上了美国养狗俱乐部所统计的全国最受欢迎的狗种的冠军宝座。自那以后，再也没有其他的狗种能够赶上拉布拉多猎犬了。在2003年，拉布拉多猎犬连续十四年成为了美国养狗俱乐部的冠军狗种，注册的拉布拉多犬多达144，943只。远远拉开了与第二名狗种金毛猎犬的距离，后者只有52，530只，而位居第三的毕尔格猎犬，数量为45，033只。 我们偶然发现了美国已经多得不能再多的品种，但这完全是出于偶然。所有那些快乐的狗主人都没有错，不是吗？我们已经选择了获得了证明的冠军狗。可是，文艺作品中充满了不太吉祥的告诫。 拉布拉多犬作为工作犬而被饲养，而且拥有无限的精力。它们非常需要陪伴和交流，无法长时间被单独留在某处。它们可能有些迟钝，难以训练。它们需要每日严格的练习，或者它们也可能变得具有破坏性。有一些拉布拉多犬野性十足，极易兴奋和激动，即使是非常有经验的驯狗者也难以控制。它们那似乎永远的幼年期会长达三年之久，甚至更长时间。而它们那漫长的、好动的青春期，则要求狗主人具有特别的耐心。 它们肌肉强健，被饲养了好几个世纪去习惯于忍受疼痛与辛劳，当它们潜入北大西洋那冰冷的海水中去帮助渔民们捕渔的时候，这种忍受疼痛与辛劳的特质，便对它们起到了很大的帮助作用。可是，在一个家庭的环境中，那些相同的特质也意味着，它们可能就像谚语“一家中国商店里的公牛”所说的那样，成为毛手毛脚、动辄闯祸的家伙。它们是大个头的、强壮的、胸部发达的动物，但却并非总是能够意识到自身的力量。一位狗主人后来告诉我说，她曾经把她那只公拉布拉多犬系在她的车库门框上，以便当她在车道上洗车的时候他能够在近旁。这只狗儿发现了一只松鼠，于是他突然朝松鼠扑过去，结果，他的猛力竟然把巨大的铁门框从墙中给拔了出来。 然后，我突然想到了一句俗语，我的心也因而感到害怕起来。“狗的父母可能是你的新小狗的未来性情的最好说明。许多令人吃惊的行为都是遗传的。”我的思维立即反射到了在我们挑选小狗的夜里那只从树林里冲出来、口吐白沫、身上泥点斑斑的公狗。“哦，我的上帝！”我心想。书上劝告人们，无论何时，只要有可能，一定要坚持见到狗儿的母亲和父亲。我的思维又一次发生了条件反射，不过这一次，是回想起了当我询问狗的父亲在哪里的时候，饲养者那不易察觉的一丝轻微的犹豫。“哦……他一定就在附近的某个地方。”然后她便赶快转移了话题。原来这些都是有原因的！熟悉内情的买狗者都会要求见一见狗的父亲的。他们会发现什么呢？一只在夜里盲目飞奔着的狂躁的疯狗，就仿佛有魔鬼附在他的尾巴上一样。我暗暗祷告马利只遗传了他母亲的性情。 个体的遗传基因先不说，纯种的拉布拉多犬都具有某些可预见的特征。美国养狗俱乐部为拉布拉多猎犬应当具备的特质确立了标准。从身体上来说，它们矮壮、强健，具有短而浓密、淋雨后也不会变色的皮毛。它们的皮毛可以是黑色的、巧克力褐色或者各种深浅的黄色，从浅黄色到一种浓烈的狐红色。拉布拉多猎犬一个主要的突出的特征，是它那厚而有力的尾巴，与水獭的尾巴很相像，这尾巴迅速地一击，可以清扫掉一张咖啡桌上的所有刀、叉、杯、盘。它的头大而结实，下颚强有力，耳朵长得很高，松垂地搭在脑袋两边。大多数的拉布拉多犬，大约有两英尺高，而公狗一般有六十五磅到八十磅重，尽管有一些拉布拉多犬的重量相当惊人。 可是，根据美国养狗俱乐部的说法，不能从长相来确定一只拉布拉多犬。该俱乐部的品种标准规定：“真正的拉布拉多猎犬的性情，就像是'水獭'的尾巴这样的品种标志。理想的性情是温和，对人友好，易驯服，渴望去愉悦主人，以及对人类或动物不具有攻击性。拉布拉多犬吸引人类的特质还远不止这些。它那温和文雅的方式、聪明以及适应性，都使其成为了一只理想的狗儿。” 一只理想的狗儿！我阅读得越多，就越觉得我们的决定是如此的正确，即使那些告诫也无法令我感到恐惧。詹妮和我自然会全身心地去迎接我们家的新成员，给予他大量的关心和爱。我们会专心地对他进行必要的有关服从和交际技巧的训练。我们都是热情的徒步者，几乎每晚工作之后以及许多个清晨，我们都会踏上码头区的小径。所以，我们自然也会带上我们新来的狗儿和我们一道散步。我们会被这个淘气鬼弄得疲惫不堪。詹妮的办公室离这儿仅仅只隔一英里，而且她每天都会回家用午餐，所以在这段时间里，她便能够在后院把球投掷给他，以便让他消耗掉他那无穷的精力，因为各种资料都在警告我们，要务必当心他的这种无穷的精力。 在我们将我们的狗儿带回家的一周前，詹妮的姐姐苏珊从波士顿打来电话。她、她的丈夫以及他们的两个孩子，计划下周去迪斯尼乐园，苏珊想知道詹妮是否愿意过来与他们共处几天？作为一位寻找着任何能与其侄子侄女相处机会的溺爱的阿姨，詹妮当然渴望前往。可是，她又有些左右为难。“我不能在这儿带小马利回家了。”她说道。 “你去吧，”我告诉她说，“我会把狗儿带回来的，而且还会把他安顿好，然后等着你回来相聚。” 我尽力让自己听上去语气冷淡，实际上，一想到这只新来的小狗在这几天里将会完完全全地只属于我一个人，我和他的这种男性间的亲密关系不会受到任何人的打扰，我便暗地里偷着乐。虽然，他是我们共有的计划，对于我和詹妮来说是同等的。但是，我从来不相信一只狗能够听从于两位主人，如果在家里只能有一位掌权者的话，我希望那个发号施令的人能够是我。这短短的三天相处和训练，将使我处于领先位置。 一周后，詹妮出发前往奥兰多了，那儿离这儿有三个半小时的车程。一个周五的晚上，下了班之后，我便再一次来到那位饲养者的住所，去接回我们生活中的新成员。当洛丽将我的新小狗从房子后面领出来的时候，我因为太过兴奋而一个劲地直喘气。三周前我们所挑选出的那只小小的、像团细绒毛似的小狗，如今的个头已经长大了一倍。他朝我飞也似地跑了过来，一头栽进了我的脚踝处，倒在我的脚边，不停地摇摆着他的骻部，手爪伸向空中——我真希望他这副样子不是在哀求。洛丽一定是察觉到了我的惊讶。“他长得很快，不是吗？”她兴高采烈地说道，“你应当看得出以后你将会花费不少钱在狗食上了！” 我倾下身，摩擦着他的腹部，说道：“准备好回家了吗，马利？”这是我第一次真正使用他的新名字，感觉还不错。 在车上，我用浴巾在乘客座上为他搭了一个非常舒适的小窝，然后把他放了进去。但是，当他开始不停地动来动去试图从毛巾里出来的时候，我几乎都无法驶出车道了。他蠕动着腹部，缓缓地朝我的方向移动过来，试图越过座位来到我这边，他一边前进一边呜咽。在主操纵台上，马利遭遇到了他这一生中将要面临的无数次困境中的第一次。他的后腿挂在了控制台的乘客座的一边，而前腿则挂在了驾驶座的这边。在中间，他的腹部则卡在了紧急制动器上。他那小小的四只腿向四周伸开着，脚爪在空中乱抓一气。他不停地扭动和摇摆着，处境就仿佛是搁浅在沙洲上的一条货船。我将手放在他的背上，但这样做却只能使他更加兴奋，而且引起了一阵新的扭动。他的后爪在两个座位之间的隆起物上拼命地寻求着支撑。慢慢地，他的后腿开始悬在了空中，他的脑袋越抬越高，尾巴猛烈地摆动着，直到引力定律终于验证了其效力。他头朝前地滑向了控制台的另一边，翻着筋斗掉落到了我脚旁的地上，背部着地。他从那儿迅速而轻易地攀到了我的膝盖上。 嘿，他很开心——非常开心。当他把头蹿进我的腹部并且轻咬着我衬衣上的纽扣时，他快乐地抖动着，他的尾巴拍打着方向盘，就仿佛节拍器上的指针。 我很快发现，我可以仅仅通过触碰他而影响他摇摆的速度。当我两只手放在方向盘上的时候，节拍保持在每秒三击——砰，砰，砰。但是，我所需要去做的，只是将我的一只手指按在他的头的顶部，韵律便从华尔兹跳到了波萨诺沃舞：砰－砰－砰－砰－砰－砰！如果用两只手指的话，那么节奏便会跳到曼波：砰－啪－砰－砰－啪－砰！然后，当我将整张手罩在他的头上，并用手指按摩他的头皮时，节拍便爆发为了一种如机关枪扫射一般的桑巴舞：砰，砰，砰，砰砰砰砰砰！ “哇！你挺有韵律感的嘛！”我对他说道，“你是一只会跳瑞格舞的狗儿。” 当我们回到家后，我把他领进屋里，解下了他颈上的皮带。他开始四处嗅，直到他闻遍了房间里的每一处，才终于停了下来。然后，他便蹲坐下来，看着我，脑袋耸立着，似乎在说：“很不错的寓所，可是，我的兄弟姐妹们在哪儿呢？” 直到就寝时间，他必须要面对新的生活这一现实才完全到来。在出发去接他回来之前，我已经在紧挨在房子一边，仅能容纳一辆汽车的车库里，布置好了他的睡觉住所。我们从来没有把车停在这个车库里面过，只是将它用作了一个贮藏库和杂物间。那儿有洗衣机和干衣机，还有我们的烫衣板。房间里干燥而舒适，还有一个后门可以通向有栅栏的后院。车库里的地板和墙面都是由混凝土制成的，所以不太容易被毁坏。我把他领到车库。“马利，”我快乐地介绍说，“这就是你的房间。” 我已经将凡是可以咀嚼的玩具都拿开了，在地板中间铺上了报纸，往一个碗里面装满了水，用一个纸箱子搭了一张小床，上面铺了张旧床单。“这儿就是你睡觉的地方。”我说道，然后把它放进了纸箱里。他应该很习惯这样的住宿环境，但以前他总是与他的兄弟姐妹们一起分享的。现在，他绕着纸盒踱着步子，可怜兮兮地望着我。作为一个测试，我走回到房子里，把门关上了。我站在门后，竖起耳朵听着外面的动静。一开始，并没有任何的声响；然后，传来了一声细微到几乎无法听见的呜咽；再然后，便是震耳欲聋的哭喊声，听上去就像是有人在那儿拷打着他。 我赶快开了门，他一看到我，马上停止了哭号。我走过去，把他搂进怀里，爱抚了几分钟，然后，我便再一次离开了。我站在门的另一边，开始数数：一、二、三……过了七秒钟之后，他的犬吠和哭喊便又一次爆发了。我们把这种练习重复了好几次，可每一次都是同样的结果。我疲惫不堪，决定不管他再如何哭闹，我也要上床睡觉去了。我担心他怕黑，便把车库的灯开着，关上了门，走向房子相反的一侧，爬上了床。由混凝土制成的墙壁却丝毫没有能够阻挡住他那可怜的哭声。我躺在床上，试图不去注意他的喊叫，猜想着他下一分钟应该就会放弃吵闹，安静地去睡觉了。可是，哭喊声仍然持续着。即使在我用枕头蒙住脑袋之后，我仍然可以听到这饶人的哭叫声。我认为，这应该是他生命中第一次独自呆在这个四处都没有任何狗的气味的陌生环境里，不再有妈妈在他身旁转来转去，也不见他的兄弟姐妹们的身影。这个可怜的小东西。我怎么可以就这样把他一个人孤零零地扔在那里不管呢？ 我经过了大约半个小时的思想斗争，才终于从床上爬起，重新回到了车库。他一看到我，整张脸立刻焕发出了光彩，尾巴开始拍打着纸箱的一边。他似乎在说：“快过来，跳进来，盒子里有足够的空间呢。”当然，我并没有照他所暗示的那样也挤进纸盒里去，我举起了装有他的盒子，把盒子连他一起带回了我的卧室，然后，我把盒子放在紧挨着床脚的地板上。我躺在床垫的边缘，将胳膊伸进盒子里，不停地摇摆着。我的手放在他的背上，感觉到他的胸腔正随着他的每一次呼吸一起一伏。就这样，我们俩渐渐地进入了梦乡。 余下的三天里，我全身心地投入到了与我们的这只新小狗的相处当中。我同他一起躺在地板上，让他在我身上跑来跑去。我与他一起摔跤。我用一条旧手巾和他玩拔河游戏——我对他已经如此强壮感到十分吃惊。我走到哪里，他便跟到哪里，并且试图去咬任何他的牙齿能够咬得动的东西。他仅仅只花了一天的工夫，便发现了他的这个新家里面最好的东西：卫生纸。他消失进了房间里，五秒钟之后，他跑了出来，嘴里牢牢地叼着卫生卷纸的一端，当他在房子里面穿来穿去的时候，一张解开的纸带便拖在了他的身后。因此，这个地方看起来就仿佛刚刚为万圣节前夕进行了一番装饰一样。 大约每半个小时，我便会将他领到后院，让他轻松一下。当他在房子里面拉屎撒尿的时候，我就会斥责他一番。当他在屋外排泄而不是在房间里面方便的时候，我便将脸颊凑近他，并且以我最甜美的声音来夸奖他一番。而当他在外面玩得精疲力尽的时候，我就会有些举止激动，就好像他刚刚抽中了一张佛罗里达对号码牌戏的头奖一样。 当詹妮从迪斯尼乐园回来的时候，她同样也全身心地投入到了和马利的相处当中。这真是一件令人惊讶的事情。随着日子一天天地展现开来，我看到了我那年轻的妻子平静、温和、耐心教养的一面，而我以前根本就不知道她还存在着这样的一面。她将他搂进怀里，紧紧地拥抱着他；她爱抚并亲吻他；她和他一起玩耍；她为他烦恼忧虑，为他手忙脚乱；她仔细地梳理着他的每一缕毛发去搜寻着跳蚤；她一个晚上要起来很多次，把他带到外面方便，一夜又一夜。詹妮对马利的这种溺爱，得为他在短短的几个星期内便完全成了这栋房子的破坏者负上责任。 更主要的是，她还给他喂食吃。 我们遵照食品袋上的说明，一天给马利喂三大碗狗食。他狼吞虎咽地吃下每一口食物，几秒钟便可以如秋风扫落叶一样把食物吃得干干净净了。当然，接踵而来的便是，我们的后院不久便像是一个令人惊心动魄的布雷区了。在我们的眼睛没有锐利地搜索扫射一番之前，我们是不敢冒险进入后院的。因为，草坪上的某一块大土堆，很有可能就是马利刚刚留下的一堆狗屎。如果说马利的食欲很大的话，那么他的粪便就更是一大堆。难道他把这些多的食物统统都消化掉了吗？ 很显然，他的确是消化了每一口食物。马利在以一种惊人的速度长大着。就像那些能够在几个小时之内便将一栋房子覆盖的令人惊讶的丛林蔓生植物一样，他也正朝着各个方向扩展开来。每一天，他都更长一些，更宽一些，更高一些，更重一些。当我将他带回家的时候，他还只有二十一磅重，可是短短几周之内，他便增加到了五十磅。当我驾车带他回家的那天晚上，他那个我用一只手便能够轻易捧住的可爱的小狗脑袋，现在已经迅速地变为了形状和分量上类似于锻工的铁砧那样的物体了。他的脚爪变得巨大，他的侧腹也因肌肉而出现了波纹，他的胸部几乎同推土机一样厚了。就像书中所允诺的那样，他那小狗的尾巴正变得像一只水獭的尾巴那样厚而有力。 这是一只怎样的尾巴啊！我们房子里的每一样处于膝盖高度或低于此高度的物体，都会被马利那根会大幅度摆动的武器击得粉碎。他扫落了咖啡桌上的刀叉杯盘，把杂志弄得四分五裂，把相框从架子上撞落下来，让啤酒瓶和葡萄酒杯飞落下来。他甚至撞裂了法式门上的一块窗格玻璃。渐渐地，每一样无法拴住的东西，都必须移到更高的安全地带，这样才能躲过他那根会摆动的槌棒的扫荡。我们那些有孩子的朋友来拜访之后都会大吃一惊地说道：“你们的房子里好像已经有小孩了一样，怎么这般狼藉混乱？” 马利实际上并不是摆动他的尾巴。他更多的是摆动他的整个身体，从前肩开始，顺次往下摆动起来。我们可以发誓，他的身体里面就像完全没有一根骨头一样，只有一块巨大的、柔韧的肌肉。于是詹妮开始称呼他为“摆动先生”。 当他嘴里衔着东西的时候，他摆动得最为厉害。他对于任何情形的反应都是相同的：叼走最近的鞋子、枕头或者铅笔——实际上，任何东西都难以幸免—－然后他便不断把玩着这些东西。他脑袋里面似乎有一个细微的声音在不停地对他低声耳语：“前进！把它捡起来！让口水流在上面！快跑！” 他叼走的某些物体，小到可以隐藏起来，而这特别能让他感到开心——他似乎认为，他正在侥幸地拿走什么东西但又可以逃脱处罚。但是，马利这样做的时候，从来都不会像一个老道的纸牌玩家那样不动声色。当他得到一些可以藏起来的东西时，他完全无法掩藏起自己的兴奋之情。他总是处在一种狂乱无序的状态，可是，在他爆发出一种超光速的狂躁的那些时刻，就仿佛有某个看不见的恶作剧者刚刚捅了一下他的屁股，他的身体会不停地颤抖，脑袋也会上下左右摆动，而他的臀部则会摆动得犹如在跳某种痉挛一般的舞蹈。我们将其称之为“马利的曼波舞”。 我会说：“好吧，这次你又拿了什么？”然后，当我走进他的时候，他便开始四处逃避，在房间里左摆右晃，臀部大幅度地摇摆着，脑袋也胡乱地上下摆动，就像一匹正在嘶鸣的小雌马，他为自己那被禁止的战利品而欣喜若狂，以至于完全失控了。当我终于将他逼到某个角落，并且用力掰开他的下颚的时候，我从来都不会空手而归。我总是能在他的嘴里面找出他从地板上搜集到的垃圾废品。当他长得更高一些的时候，他便立刻将目标对准了餐桌。纸巾、克里内克丝面巾纸、杂货店的收条、酒瓶的软木塞、纸夹、棋子、玻璃瓶盖——简直就像是一个难民营。有一天，我费力地撬开了他的下巴，在里面窥探了一番，发现我那张付薪水的支票，正像膏药一般贴在他的嘴巴顶端。 几个星期之后，我们便很难回忆起在我们这位新的寄宿者没来之前我们的生活是什么样子的。很快，我们的生活便渐渐形成了一套固定的程序。每天早晨，在冲泡第一杯咖啡之前，我会带着马利到码头溜达一会儿，然后再返回家中。在用完早餐之后、洗澡之前，我会带着一把铁铲在后院巡逻一番，将他的“地雷”掩埋在场地后面的沙地里。詹妮九点前会出发去上班，而我则很少十点前离开房子，我先会将马利锁在车库里面，给他留下一碗清水、许多玩具以及我那句愉快的指令：“做个乖孩子，马利。”到了十二点半的时候，詹妮会回家午休，她将给马利带来中午的一餐，并在后院里扔给他一个球，直到他玩得精疲力尽为止。在最初的几周里，她还会利用下午的空档时间，飞速地返回家中把他放出来溜达一会儿。大部分的晚上，晚餐之后，我们会带着他一起散步到码头，在那儿我们会沿着近岸内航道漫步、闲逛，这种惬意的感受，就仿佛是驾着游艇从棕榈海滩一直悠哉游哉到夕阳的余晖洒落到我们身上。 “漫步”或许是一个错误的字眼。马利的漫步就仿佛是一辆失控的机车在“漫步”一样。他在前面奔跑着，拴着他的皮带因此紧紧地勒在他的颈子上，结果他因感到窒息连声音都嘶哑了。我们用力地拉扯着他向后，而他则猛拉着我们向前。我们用力地拖，他则用力地拉，他被项圈勒得太紧，结果就像一个连续抽烟的人那样咳嗽着。他一会儿向左，一会儿往右，朝每一个邮箱和灌木冲过去，用力地嗅、喘气、撒尿，一刻也停不下来，但通常他都会尿到自己的身上，而不是预先的目标上。他在我们后面转着圈，这样一来，他颈子上的皮带便缠绕在了我们的脚踝上，我们差点都要给绊倒了。当某个带着另一只狗的人走近的时候，马利便会快活地朝他们跑去，用后腿站立着，皮带都已经绷到了极限，可见他是多么渴望想结交这位新的朋友。“他看上去一定很热爱生活。”一位狗主人赞美道。 他还不太大，所以，在这些皮带的拔河赛中我们还能够获胜，但是，每一周这种力量的平衡都在发生着转移。他长得越来越大，越来越强壮。很显然，不久之后，他便会比我们中的任何一个都要有力了。我们知道，在他把我们拖到一辆飞驰而过的汽车的轮子之下丢尽颜面地丧命以前，我们必须要学会驾驭他，并且教会他尾随在主人身后。我们的朋友中有一些是非常有经验的养狗者，他们告诉我们不要匆忙地去进行服从训练。“这太早了，”其中一位建议说，“你们应该尽可能地让他享受他的幼年期，因为这段快乐的时期很快就会过去了，这之后你们就可以开始认真地训练他了。” 我们听从了他的建议，但这并不意味着我们会让马利完全地随心所欲。我们制定了规则，并且尽力去坚持执行。床和家具属于禁区。在抽水马桶里喝水、闻胯部以及咬椅子腿，都是会遭到斥责的违规行为。“不”成为了我们最喜欢使用的词语。我们用基本的命令来与他相处——过来、待着别动、坐下、趴下——但是成功率却很低。马利年轻、亢奋，任何事物都属于他的关注范围。他是如此兴奋，任何相互作用都会让他处于越墙而过一般的极度的激动和狂乱之中，就仿佛喝了三杯浓咖啡那样精力充沛。我们直到几年之后才意识到了这一点，可是，他却显示出了后来成百上千次难以控制的行为这一情况的早期征兆。用教科书上的术语来说，我们的小狗患有专注度缺乏、过度活跃紊乱症。 尽管处于青少年时期的马利举动是那么地滑稽和古怪，但是他仍然在我们的家庭以及我们的关系当中，扮演了一个十分重要的角色。通过他的无助，他正显示出了詹妮能够处理好这种母性的养育工作。他在她的照料下已经度过了好几个星期，而她并没有把他养死。恰恰相反，他正茁壮成长着。我们开玩笑说，或许我们应当开始停止给他喂食，从而防止他发育得太快，这样便可以抑制他的精力和能量了。 詹妮从冷血的植物杀手到养狗妈妈的转变，继续令我感到惊奇不已。我认为，她的这种变化和能力，也让她自己吃了一惊。她是一位天才。有一天，马利开始剧烈地呕吐。我甚至还没来得及意识到他正处于危险之中，而詹妮则已经站起身，朝他扑了过去，用一只手用力地将他的嘴巴掰开，而另一只手则伸进了他的咽喉里，捞出了一张很大的、满是口水的玻璃纸。这一切结束之后，马利发出了最后一声咳嗽，用尾巴撞击着墙壁，然后看着她，他的表情似乎是在说：“我们可以再做一次吗？” 随着我们与这位我们家庭的新成员相处得越来越舒服和融洽，我们也开始更为轻松地谈论起以其他的方式来扩大我们的家庭。在把马利带回家的几个星期后，我们决定停止使用避孕措施。那并不是说我们决定怀孕，这对于两个致力于尽可能不作决定的人来说，是一种极为大胆的姿态。我们仅仅只是决定停止避孕而已。我们意识到这种逻辑会有些令人费解，可是，这会以某种方式让我们两个人都感觉更好。没有压力。Absolutely not.我们并不是想要一个孩子，我们只是打算听其自然，让该发生的事情发生而已。 坦白说，我们有些害怕。我们有几对夫妻朋友，他们尝试了几个月甚至几年想怀上宝宝，却并不走运，结果，他们逐渐把自己令人同情的绝望感受公布于众。在晚餐聚会上，他们会着迷地谈论着医生的观察、精子的数量以及定时的月经周期，这些内容会让桌前的其他人感到十分不适。我的意思是，你应该说些什么呢？难道说：“我认为你的精子数听起来刚好啊！”要忍受这些话题真是一件非常痛苦的差使。我们非常害怕自己也会加入到他们的队伍当中去。 在我们结婚之前，詹妮曾经受过几次严重的子宫内膜异位的痛苦，并且忍受了腹腔镜检查的手术，把多余的伤疤组织从她的输卵管移除，这预示着她不太容易怀孕。而我们过去的一个小秘密甚至更麻烦。在我们的关系处于最初的那段充满盲目的激情的日子里，当欲望战胜了常识和理智的时候，我们把谨慎抛到了脑后，不顾一切，狂热地做爱，完全没有使用任何的避孕措施。不只一次如此，而是许多次。这种行为真是难以置信的愚蠢。几年之后，当我们回忆过往的时候，我们真应该俯下身亲吻大地，感谢不可思议地避免了一种没有准备的怀孕。相反，我们两个都可能想过：“难道我们有什么问题吗？没有一对正常的夫妻能够毫无防护地频频做爱，而又可以侥幸逃脱意外怀孕的危险。”我们都深信，怀孕不会是一件容易的任务。 因此，当我们的朋友们宣布他们打算怀孕的计划时，我们却仍保持着沉默。詹妮仅仅只是打算中断服用医药箱里的避孕药，并且将其忘在脑后。如果她最终怀孕了，那将会很奇妙。假如她没有，那也是因为我们实际上并没有在努力地去怀孕，不是吗？ 西棕榈海滩的冬天，是一年当中最灿烂的时节，清爽的夜晚和温暖干燥的晴天是它的标志。在经过了难以忍受的、漫长的、令人无精打采的夏季之后，在大部分的时间都是在空调房里度过，或者从一株遮荫树跳到另一株树下试图躲开似火的骄阳之后，冬天便是我们庆祝亚热带地区那温和的一面的时候了。我们在后走廊上用一日三餐，每天早晨从后院的果树上摘下橙子榨果汁喝，照管一个小小的芳草花园以及房子周围那些西红柿植物，并且采摘几朵茶碟般大小的木槿花，然后让它们漂浮在餐桌上的几个盛满水的碗里。到了晚上，我们会在敞开的窗子下睡觉，弥漫着栀子花香味的空气从窗外飘进房间里，轻柔地将我们包围。 在三月下旬的那些美妙的日子里，有一天，詹妮邀请了一位工作中的朋友带来她的矮脚猎犬巴迪，进行了一次狗儿的约会。巴迪是一只从动物收容所里被解救出来的狗，所以他有着一张我所见过的最为悲伤的狗脸。我们松开这两只狗，让他们在后院无拘无束地玩耍。老巴迪并不是十分确定这只一刻不停地跑着、跳着、紧绕着他转圈的精力过度充沛的黄色小狗，究竟是由什么材料制成的。不过，他还是高兴地接受了他，他们两个顽皮地玩耍嬉闹了一个多小时，最后终于精疲力竭地双双倒在了芒果树的树荫下面。 几天之后，马利开始不停地在身上到处乱抓。他用爪子狠狠地抓着自己，我们担心他很有可能都把自己抓出血了。詹妮蹲下身，开始了她的另一项例行的视察工作，她把手指放进他的毛发里面，当她想要看看他下面的皮肤时，她便将他的毛发分开。仅仅几秒钟之后，她便叫喊了起来：“该死！看看这个。”我的视线越过她的肩膀，落在了她将马利的毛发分开的地方，看到在毛发下面有一个外形类似飞镖的小黑点。我们让马利平躺在地板上，然后开始彻底地、仔细地检查他的每一寸毛发。马利在我们两个人如此专注的搜寻与关爱之下显得十分陶醉，他快乐地喘着气，尾巴重重地击打在地板上。我们所搜寻的每一处，都发现了这些小黑点。跳蚤！一大群的跳蚤！他们寄生在他的脚趾之间、他的项圈下面，甚至躲藏进了他那松垂的耳朵里面。即使这些跳蚤比较迟钝，容易捕捉，但由于他们的数量实在是太过庞大了，所以，要把他们摘出来，是一件耗时漫长、极为艰巨的工作。 对于佛罗里达那极为著名的跳蚤和扁虱，我们曾经有所耳闻。由于这儿没有结冰，甚至也没有任何霜冻，所以这些虫豸从来都没有被消灭过，而且，他们在温暖、潮湿的环境中，更容易繁衍活跃起来。这是一个甚至连坐落在棕榈海滩沿岸的百万富翁的豪宅中也会有蟑螂出没的地方。但是，詹妮仍然觉得很奇怪，因为，在她每日的精心梳洗之下，她的小狗应该不会沾染上跳蚤、虱子才对。当然，我们也没有任何可靠的证据把这件事情怪罪到巴迪身上。詹妮猜想，一定有大批的害虫不仅寄生在狗的身上，而且在我们的整个家里都在滋生蔓延开来。于是，她一把抓起了车钥匙，然后跑出门去了。 一个半小时之后，她带着一个大袋子回来了，里面装满了足以将我们房子里三层外三层清洁消毒一番的化学制品。有除跳蚤的洗液、杀跳蚤的粉末、赶跳蚤的泡沫、灭跳蚤的浸泡液。还有一包针对草坪的杀虫剂，因为商店里的售货员告诉她说，如果我们希望让这些病菌害虫无处可逃的话，那么我们就必须喷一喷杀虫剂。而且还有一个为除去虫卵而设计的专门的梳子。 我将手探进袋子里，找出了一张收据。“我的上帝！亲爱的，”我说道，“这笔钱足够我们租一台除草机了。” 但我的妻子并不介意。她再次恢复了一名杀手的状态，不过这一次，是要去保护她心爱的狗儿，而且她是动了真格的。她投入到了复仇的任务之中。她在洗衣房的浴盆里用专门的香皂将马利仔仔细细、彻彻底底地擦洗了一遍。然后，她把包含有与草坪杀虫剂同样的化学制剂的浸泡液混合调匀，并将浸泡液倒在马利的身上，直到他的每一寸毛发都浸透在洗液之中。当马利在车库里变干的时候，他闻上去就像是一个小型的化学工厂，而詹妮则疯狂地使用着真空吸尘器对地板、墙壁、地毯、窗帘、坐垫展开了彻底的清洁工作。然后，她便开始喷雾。当她在屋里泼洒跳蚤杀虫剂的时候，我则在屋外做着同样的工作。“你认为我们能够把这些小坏蛋们都抓住吗？”当我们终于结束了这项声势浩大的工程之后，我问道。 “我认为我们可以。”她回答说。 我们在邱吉尔路345号对跳蚤们所展开的这场全方位的进攻，是一次巨大的胜利。我们每天都把马利检查一番——他的脚趾中间、耳朵后面、尾巴下面、腹部两侧，以及我们能够到达的任何一处地方。我们检查地毯、沙发、窗帘下面、草地。什么也没发现。看来，我们已经将敌人彻底地消灭干净了。