I’ve said before that I was a little nervous in adopting a dog. I was used to cats, I knew how they behaved and could expect it. Dogs were just such…dogs. They run around and crash into things like big oafs (well, if you have a big dog, and – to me – any dog smaller than my cats isn’t really a dog), they slobber, they chew and dig, etc.

So when we adopted Cosmo, I wanted rules in place for his behavior. We set up a baby gate at the foot of the stairs, giving the cats a safe place to avoid the dog, and also because I didn’t want him coming upstairs and chewing up the girls’ toys.

And I also declared he wasn’t going to be on the furniture. Ha. He made it clear from day one that he intended to join us on the couch. So we came up with a plan to keep a blanket on one corner of the couch, and teach him that he was allowed up, but only on his blanket.

How’s that going, you ask?

Yep, total pushover. But it’s not entirely my fault. Cosmo has charmed his way into every privilege. Any visitor to our house will tell you what an awesome dog he is, and how he’s a dog who could change haters into lovers. He’s gentle with the kids, playful, protective, and wants only to be loved. Well, maybe some treats, too, if you’ve got any.

I’m holding firm on the no upstairs rule, though. Mainly because I’ve slept downstairs on the sofa bed once, and I can attest that the dog is a bed hog. At 85+ pounds, he’s not so easy to move, either.

Never did I predict that I would love this goofy puppy face so much.

The one thing I dislike the most about living in the suburbs in a planned neighborhood is the number of door-to-door salesmen we get on a regular basis. It was far worse when the homes were still being built, as salesmen preyed on young families with the money to buy new homes, knowing they would likely be needing all of the things they were selling to outfit those new homes.

It’s not quite as frequent now but they’re still regular visitors, unaware that the neighborhood’s number of empty homes and neglected yards are a clear signal of families struggling to get by with no money for their door-to-door goods.

But the worst of the worst are the carpet cleaning salesmen. You know them – they go by several company names – all offering to give you a “free carpet cleaning” and then try to sell you their outrageously expensive vacuum cleaners. Of course, once you let them inside your house, it takes an act of God or a threat to call police to get them to leave if you won’t buy a vacuum.

So last night, right after dinner, there was a knock at the door. As with every visitor to our doorstep, Cosmo immediately went into sentry dog mode and gave a few low woofs as he took his position in front of the door. I saw the casually dressed unknown couple at the door, and couldn’t tell if they might be neighbors, religious folks trying to convert us to their church, or salespeople.

Aaron went to the door and opened it. The man immediately launched into his script:

Salesman: “Why hello there! How are — is that a pit bull?”

Cosmo was right at the door, his head between Aaron and the outside and he was trying to push his way further towards the couple. The man was clearly startled by our dog.

Normally, Aaron is quick to point out that Cosmo is a mixed breed, even if he is part pit bull. Detecting the scent of salesmen, however, he decided to go with the guy’s assumption.

Aaron: “Yep, he’s a pit bull. Although he’s generally friendly.”

The man inched back a little as Cosmo tried to get to him – only a little because his female partner was directly behind him – but tried to continue on.

Salesman: “We’re with XYZ Company, have you heard of us?”

Aaron: “No, sorry, I haven’t.”

Salesman: “Really? Wow, I’m surprised you’ve never heard of XYZ Company! Well, your family was selected to receive this from us (carefully handing Aaron a bottle of some kind of cleaning solution) and we’d also like to offer you a free carpet cleaning today!”

Prior to this I had been trying to call Cosmo to come back further into the living room, away from the door. Once I saw him hand Aaron a “free” bottle of cleaning solution and offer the carpet cleaning, I stopped any efforts and muttered under my breath, “oh no, no, no.” Go be annoying, Cosmo.

Aaron: “Sorry, we don’t have time right now. We’re just getting ready to put our kids to bed.”

From my spot in the living room, I sighed. Aaron went with the classic “we’re busy right now” excuse, which works well for some salespeople, but for the vacuum people only presents as an opportunity to offer to come back later. Rookie move on his part, but I can’t blame him – he hasn’t turned away as many as I have. I would have gone with “we’re replacing our carpets soon with wood, so no thanks” or “we have two kids, cats and a dog, so there’s really no point in trying to keep it clean” or even the basic “not interested, thanks” response.

However, Cosmo was reacting to the man’s enthusiasm by trying his best to get out the door to get to him. Enthusiasm to Cosmo = play with the dog! To the man at the door, I’m sure Cosmo being held by the collar as he shook with excitement and fought to get out the door to greet this new person = dog wants to eat me!

At this point Cosmo nearly escaped out the door and was whining in frustration at not being allowed to greet the people on our doorstep. And that’s when the magic happened.

Aaron: (pulling Cosmo back in as he lunged at the salespeople – to lick them) “Cosmo, get back in here! Sorry, he gets really excited around new people. He’s not a mean pit bull.”

Salesman: “Yeah, wow he’s big.”

Aaron: “Yeah, he’s over 80 pounds now, still just a puppy.”

Salesman: “Oh, uh, ok. Well, thanks for your time. And I’ll need to take that back, too.” He took the “free” cleaning solution from Aaron, turned around, and left. I had to laugh that he actually took the free gift back from us after handing it to Aaron.

I’ve NEVER seen a carpet-cleaning salesperson so quick to give up a sale, and can only assume Cosmo scared them off. To a stranger, I guess he is a scary looking dog. He’s big, full of energy, and loves people. He’d rather lick you than bite you, but his enthusiasm can be interpreted as threatening. (To be fair, he’s also a good protector and will probably growl if he thinks you’re up to no good.)

When our house was broken into years ago, the police detective who worked with us said the best alarm system we could get was a dog. Turns out, a dog is also perfect for turning away door-to-door salesmen.

Good dog, Cosmo.