Our family recently got a puppy. She’s a very cute little Cocker Spaniel/Chihuahua mix. Her name is Ivy. She has a white fur base with maple colored spots. At 16 weeks, she weighs 3.5 lbs and is about the size of a Guinea Pig. Truth be told, she may very well be a Guinea Pig, but for the sake of my kids and this article let’s assume she is a dog: A carnivorous domesticated mammal, also known as a canine, a pooch, a hound, or mutt.
Ivy’s charming disposition has blended well with our other dog (Trudy) and our two cats (Annie and Smokey). My daughters love her and even my wife and I have grown attached to the adorable little fur ball. Ivy spends her days barking at dust, wind, undetectable sounds or the subtle shift of the earth’s axis. She eats everything she encounters (i.e.; dried animal poop, dead birds and discarded bathroom tissues, in addition to the gross stuff).
The little Pit Bull wannabe loves chasing and tormenting the aforementioned household animal inhabitants, in addition to pooping/peeing wherever she pleases and sleeping approximately 20 hours a day. That is the life. The closest resemblance to a dog’s life that we humans can relate to is probably that of a rock star. I bet John Meyer, Beyonce, Bono, Eminem and Lady Gaga spend their days much like Ivy, when they’re not in the studio or on the road touring. Next time someone bumps into Blackhawk resident and Motley Crue front man, Vince Neil, ask him how he spends his down time. I bet it’s similar to that of a dog and if it is, I wish I was a dog (or a rock star).
After months and months of tenacious/relentless/crazed persistence, my two daughters finally wore us down (we caved in). Technically, when we made the promise to them that at some point in their young lives we would get them a puppy, we were secretly hoping that their other interests and activities, such as sports, school, friends, fashion, music, theater, scouting, boys, money, television and the lifelong study and practice of origami would keep them distracted until we were ready to ship them off to college.
Alas, the desire to have a furry barking machine proved to be stronger than we anticipated and we finally acquiesced to their non-stop begging, pleading and cries of lonely desperation. When I live my next life, as a dog, I’m hopeful that my highly developed hearing will completely block out the excruciating whine of a “tween” girl begging for an iPhone, Facebook account, boy friend, extended text time or worst of all, a puppy.
Searching the local area animal shelters in hopes of finding a dog is actually quite enjoyable. We found our first dog, a terrier mix, at the SPCA in Dublin. The SPCA has a beautiful facility, qualified staff, educational classes and a very nice collection of mature adult dogs. Our area also supports other organizations such as ARF and East Bay Animal Shelter. Adopted dogs are wonderful in large part due to their appreciative attitude being given a second chance at life. I suppose knowing that if you aren’t adopted you may be chasing Frisbees in Heaven makes rescue dogs inherently grateful.
As terrific as above-referenced local agencies are, when searching for a puppy, we elected to work with the folks at the Tri-Valley Animal Rescue. Our friend, Nikki Steffens, whose family fosters dogs for the TVAR, was very helpful throughout the process. She worked with us to define what type of puppy would be best for our family, given the petting zoo atmosphere we are nurturing in our suburban home. Did I mention we’ve also had hamsters, rats and fish? I’m currently looking for an anaconda, a giraffe and a Ligor (a lion bred with a tiger) to qualify as Dr. Doolittle of Danville.
Once we finally identified the most appropriate dog for our family, that being a curious, rambunctious, bright, loving dwarf dog with attitude, Ivy seemed to find us. Pleasanton’s weekly Farmer’s Market often hosts animal adoption days so that’s where we headed and that’s where we found Ivy.
If I was a dog, I would like to be a German Shepherd. Not because I’m of German decent. If human heritage was the determining factor in breed, I would be an Irish Setter/English Bulldog half-blood. German Shepherd’s are, by nature, protective, strong, brave and intelligent. All of those qualities are admirable if you’re describing a dog or human.
Growing up, my family had a pure white German Shepherd named Snowy. I have so many good memories of times spent with that dog. Summer sleep outs in the back yard, 5K runs, getting ready for the start of football season and long talks about politics, religion and girls. Snowy was deep. Snowy assessed everything he came into contact with as Friend, Foe or Food. It’s simplistic, but not a bad way to go about making impressions and assessments.
In Doggyland, I could scratch myself, lick myself, pee and poop wherever I wanted, drink from the gutter, pool or toilet, sniff human crotches, sniff my friend’s behinds (it’s like shaking hands), bark, howl or growl until my throat hurt and sleep, sleep, sleep. Did I also mention that dogs don’t get married? That’s right, they “hook-up.” I don’t judge them. In fact, I appreciate their animalistic approach to relationships. They take care of their primal instinct/physical urges and yet don’t feel the need to comply with the institution of marriage.
That’s not to say that if I were a dog I would forgo my fatherly duties. I would undoubtedly want to be there for the delivery of my litter and would stick around to help raise my pups, but that whole marriage thing just isn’t part of dog life. In this fantasy world, I would have a neighborhood full of female “dog friends with privileges.” That is until my owners took the responsible action of having me neutered. Oh, the shame. Come to think of it, once that happened, I might settle down with a nice Collie.
History is filled with famous dogs in every form of art, athletics and literature. The painting of dogs playing poker is a masterpiece. While dog fighting makes me sick, dog racing has been around since early Egyptian times. Racing the incredibly fast and agile Greyhounds is immensely popular while watching dachshunds (aka wiener dogs) is just delightfully amusing.
Dog actors, such as Lassie, Old Yeller, Rin Tin Tin, Toto, Benji, Air Bud and the Shaggy D.A. haven’t won any Academy Award (yet), but they have made significant contributions to some wonderful movies. There have been dogs on television going back 50 years, starting with Pete, Spanky’s Pit Bull on the Little Rascals, Tiger, a sheep dog who lived with the Brady Bunch, Buck, also a sheep dog who housed with the Bundy’s on Married with Children and finally Eddie, the cute little Jack Russell terrier on Frasier.
Many of us can all recall commercial pitch dogs like Loren Green’s dog, Duke, chasing sticks for Alpo as well as The Taco Bell Chihuahua and Budweiser’s Spuds Mackenzie. There are also the always entertaining comic strip and cartoon dogs including Marmaduke, Scooby Doo, Under Dog, Lady and the Tramp, Clifford – The big red dog, Bolt and, of course, Snoopy.
Finally, in literature, who could forget Shiloh, White Fang or Cujo? However, to truly understand dogs, take the time to read the beautifully crafted book, The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. The story is told in the words/thoughts of Enzo, a Golden Retriever. If you ever wondered what a dog was thinking, this book provides you with an enlightening notion.
I’m not saying everything about a dog’s life is ideal. Dogs can’t get a job, pay bills, drive carpool, follow politics, look for a job, invest in a 401K, Tweet on Twitter, shop, mow the lawn or dance. Who am I kidding? I don’t even like to do any of those things. Dogs don’t need materialistic possessions or stressful responsibilities. A dog’s life is awfully darn appealing right now, especially given today’s economy.
As I do believe there is a possibility of reincarnation, maybe I will be a dog in my next life. Fifty or seventy-five years from now I might be a German Shepherd guide dog, who greets people at the library or grocery store with my sight impaired human partner. My name will be Thor or Rock and I’ll shake my tail and extend my paw because life is good.