Mark Twain once said, If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. That is the principal difference between dog and man.
Late in the summer we acquired a pair of canine houseguests who, like a couple of rambunctious four-year-olds, have altered our daily routines in ways that have been (for the most part, in the interests of honesty) very very good.
For one, we all get a lot more exercise. Kermode here, part husky, part something yellow, part extreme hairy shedder, is the prettiest happiest boingiest dog on the block. Every morning before her walk, every morning after her walk, every time anyone returns from a 60 minute 30-minute three any time away, she springs high into the air, deftly matching nose height for nose height, without ever making bodily contact, proclaiming her absolute joy at your presence in her life.
Chalupa, formerly known as Buddy, came to us as a plump little sausage, her neck so fat and non-existent that her collar slid forward off her head. She was so rotund she couldn’t jump. Not ‘couldn’t jump over anything’ but rather ‘couldn’t jump.’ Period.
We’d been thinking about getting some pooch or another for a couple of years, on and off, mostly off, although in the summer the search became a little more active. One rescue organization put us in contact with another and suddenly the decision was imminent: Were we ready? Sure. How about a bonded pair? Huh?
Turns out there was a doggy duo from Prince George (several hours north) which could not be separated by request of the original owner. Mr. Ricard had needed to relinquish the dogs as he was entering a hospice and his life’s final chapter. The 6.5-year-old dogs had been his companions since the death of his wife and he did not want them separated. But no one would take the pair so they were scheduled to be euthanized.
At this point a rescue group swooped in and did just that — rescued the dogs from the jaws of, well, death. Figuring the animals would have a better chance at being adopted in Vancouver arrangements were made to fly the dogs south. However, the airline would not take the dogs on board. Why not?
Too fat to fly.
It seems the kind-hearted Mr. Ricard fed the dogs straight from the table every day and the airline was taking no chances on the overweighty ones.
So it was off to The Biggest Loser Fat-Free Farm for Dogs where it was hoped they’d divest themselves of some excess poundage. After one month the results were not impressive so the team was driven (nine long hours with a van full of yappy stressed-out dogs; these people are saints) to a second farm where they passed another two months on the doggy exercise plan.
And so to us. Would we take a pair of fat and hapless hounds, who’d already had more than their share of lifestyle challenges?
We thought about it — one dog, two dogs, really not a lot of difference when starting from zero.
A note about the names: Kermode (kerr MO dee) is the name for the native spirit bear with colouring the same as our dog. The little one arrived as Buddy but her name was easily altered to Chalupa (cha LOO pa), a Mexican food overstuffed taco. ‘Nuff said.
Of course, living where we do — high on a rocky outcrop, surrounded by forested trails and stony beaches, we all get outside even more regularly. The dogs are shiny and svelte and Chalupa now brags a neck, a waist and the ability to leap over driftwood with ease. The two of them are a daily reminder to smile, take in the fresh air and nap as often as possible.
They probably miss the snowy winters of Prince George, but I reckon they’ll get over it.
An odd pair, but sweet none the less. I bet they love it at your place. Do you have any other animals, cats, chickens?
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Wow. Really, the perfect home for these guys. Doggy heaven!
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I love these dogs. They both look wonderful!
A neck! She has a neck!
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