Spud, our new grand-dog, is a six-month-old Golden and Golden Labrador mix who simply loves life and especially other dogs. He’s also quite the lady’s guy in every sense of the word. This was his first visit, and the first time that he’d been separated from his family for more than a day.
Mojo, a 20-month-old Aussie Shepherd and Swiss Bernese Mountain Dog mix lives across the street from us. Her person-father thinks she’s a Bernedoodle and her person-mother calls her an Aussiedoodle. Either way she’s tall, energetic, loud, and opinionated, and seems to have a thing for younger males.
Expatica, an international dating advice site, says, “Swiss can be rather reserved and conservative; they prefer to take their time to get to know someone properly before they completely open up.” Person Mom wins – Mojo’s definitely not reserved, so she must be an Aussiedoodle.
The leashes came off as Spud and Mojo met in our front yard, and the endlessly renewable energy they generated chasing each other around in circles would surely challenge wind and solar. The environmental damage was equally swift. Trampled pachysandra leaves and ripped stems flew through the air, scattered daisy and begonia petals covered the lawn as if there was a wedding in progress, and our delicate Japanese painted ferns were obliterated. The decision was made to continue the courting at the soccer field adjacent to the old Pelham Arena site.
To get the frenzied pups anywhere near under control, it was decided that our neighbour Maureen would walk Mojo along the south sidewalk while Spud would bounce to the field on the north side of the street. As we approached the soccer field on a newly paved street through an under-construction housing development, Maureen and I commented on the incredible amount of rain that had fallen the night before.
Once on the field, leashes came off again. Mojo and Spud (whatever happened good old Duke and Daisy?) raced around the field like Connor McDavid after an errant game seven puck. Mojo wasn’t above throwing Spud the odd body check as they ran side-by-side, sending him flipping into the air ass-over-teakettle until he finally dropped to the field with exhaustion. Her consistent yapping cajoled him to his feet after a few minutes, and the race began again. Spud impetuously veered off course and leapt over the developer’s drooping plastic security fence, plunging into a freshly dug, water-filled basement excavation. He sat there, bewildered only for a second, looking like a mouse up to its chin in a bowl of Rice Crispies and chocolate milk. Mojo followed of course, and it was mud bath and spa day for pups in Fonthill.
They revelled in splashing the sandy brown water all around. Maureen pulled out a dog whistle and blew it with the force of an air raid siren. I yelled at the pair through my laughter in the sternest voice I could muster, but they absolutely refused to come of the quagmire until they had covered every hairy inch of themselves in the brown slop.
That was the unceremonious end of their date, and three soggy towels later I’m convinced I can hand wash our van quicker and with less water than it took to get Spud clean.
I’m convinced I can hand wash our van quicker and with less water than it took to get Spud clean
Timing is everything. Spud finished the bathing process by stretching out in the sun, returning to his handsome yet winsome Spudly self as a pick-up truck slowed and parked along the curb in front of the house next door, which is for sale. Jamie, the driver, introduced himself to Spud and me, in that order, as a prospective purchaser and said his wife was on her way. Vehicle number two arrived. Helen came over and introduced herself before spying Spud. She immediately extended her hand to him, and explained to him that she and Jamie had two dogs at home in Brampton.
Car number three was emptying at the curb. Three young women, Jamie and Helen’s daughters, chattered away as they approached. When Spud caught their eyes, they all knelt to say hello.
Spud is a rescue dog, obtained from a shelter which specializes in finding homes for abused and abandoned dogs from southern Ontario. When young Spud was first rescued he was unable to cope in the shelter, so he was “adopted” by a female volunteer for a month to help him accept and trust humans again. After three placement interviews Spud chose our daughter and two granddaughters as the family that he wanted to live with, paying little attention to the husband and dad that was part of the package.
When my wife and I first met him, Spud immediately went to her, treating me with suspicion and wariness. The kindness he experienced from the woman during his first temporary adoption clearly stuck with him.
His tail was wagging so fast I expected liftoff as Helen and her three daughters rubbed his ears, shook his paws and smooched with him. Spud’s innate trust of women and preference for female company meant that being pampered by four females at once had him over the moon.
When he shamelessly flipped onto his back and three hands reached out simultaneously to rub his belly I was seriously jealous. If the neighbours’ home sells, our four-legged charmer Spud will have earned a cut of the commission.
