My wife and I are on our eighth and ninth dogs...the best two we ever had were both rescues.
The best: Monster the Mighty Moose. 50 percent Rottie (size and facial shape); 25 percent Retriever (sweetness); and 25 percent Terrier (smartness). He came from Newark's Animal Shelter. His favorite thing to do was hop up in the chair we left for him at family dinners at the end of the table, brace his 150 lb. body against an armrest, and gaze around at each of us solemnly in turn. He didn't try to eat food, he just wanted to keep us company. I waited for him to open his mouth and say something wise, but he never did.
His second favorite thing was to introduce himself to people: he would walk behind them, then through their legs from back to front, hold up his head, and you would have to chuckle his chin. After that, he was your friend forever, and he would leap up, plant his forepaws on your shoulders, and give kisses.
He had more personality than many people I knew.
Second was Oscar the Easygoing Blue Dobe, who came from Doberman Rescue Unlimited in New Hampshire. They recommended him to us. He was a "Blue" with uncropped ears, and he was relaxed with everyone: people, cats, other dogs. His favorite thing was to go into the backyard at night and find a possum. He would pick up the possum in his mouth and the possum would "play possum." Then Oscar would carry it over to us in the yard, place it at our feet....and start washing it with his tongue. It was his "pet possum."
Third best is one we have now....Bodhi Bodacious, a Mass of Hot Air and Love. He's a brindle Preso Canarias-Pitbull cross, with a white sugar streak down his nose and a white triangle on the back of his neck, which points forward. You always know where he's going. He plays with his BFF, Gemma Gen the Mass of Chaos and Sweetness, a pure-bred South African Boerboel (Mastiff), runs around the yard, and snoozes with her, but his favorite thing is to come up to his favorite humans and give them kisses.
Let's not forget Leah the Wonder Dog, a pure-bred black Dobie who made history as the first dog to fly directly from the US to New Zealand, where she became a national scandal...a Dobie with cropped ears and no tail in a nation where both steps are illegal. The South Island Doberman Society was going to take us to court, which was funny, as my wife was a field inspector for the RSPCA.
So we drove out to a South Island Doberman Society Ribbon Parade (a fancy name for a picnic), in the RSPCA van. My wife was the duty inspector that weekend. That meant free transportation and petrol, but we would have to get up at 1 a.m. to uplift a dog if necessary.
When the club saw us approaching in the white van, they wondered what was going on, as they were law-abiding Dobie owners. We opened the side door, and our New Zealand adopted farm dog bounced out, Emma the Blunder Dog. She was a brindle who had trouble with people, a broken tooth, but a sweet demeanor. She and Leah were best friends. Emma shot off towards the club's Dobies, clearly thinking "Oh, boy, 10 Leahs!" Then she stopped, clearly thinking, "Wait. There's only one Leah." Then she ran on, thinking, "Oh, who cares? I'll play with them anyway!"
Then Leah gracefully leaped out of the van, and the entire club leaped up from their picnic tables, yelling, "That's him! That's her! That's it! That's the dog!"
A tiny Scottish woman named Terry strode over to us with the ferocity of the 95th Highlanders in the Crimea, pointed at Leah, and asked, "Where did you get that dog?"
My wife answered, "From a breeder in Pennsylvania."
Terry gasped. "YOU'RE YANKS! How did you get that dog through the six-month quarantine in Hawaii?"
My wife said, "Well, it isn't there any more....now it's 30 days in quarantine in Auckland."
They were delighted. Now they could import dogs from America. In seconds, they handed my wife an application form to join the club. After Leah was in, my wife said, "Great. Leah is excellent at obedience. Can we enter the next contest?"
Faces fell. No. She had cropped ears. But while we didn't get into agility events, our two dogs had a good time at the Ribbon Parade, we had good food, and Terry became one of our best friends, visiting us regularly with her two Dobies.
When we were in New Zealand, they did the annual "City to Surf Fun Run." I took Leah the Wonder Dog on the route while my Navy unit set up a tent at the end in Queen Elizabeth II Park. My wife went there with Emma the Blunder Dog. Emma was not good with people, and we were reluctant to put her in the walk.
So Leah and I did the walk perfectly, reached our tent, and our Morale Welfare and Recreation folks had free food for all of us. Our dogs soon discovered that if they were on their best behavior, they could be perfect chowhounds.
On the way back in the car, they flatulated noisily from the human food.
I could take them for walks in nearby Hagley Park. You saw it on TV when that nutcase shot up the Christchurch Mosque. The park is opposite the mosque. We lived a block from the park.
Knowing where they were going, the dogs would take me to the park, amusing passing pedestrians. Once there, I let them off the leads.
Hagley Park has a big open field, where seagulls stand in formation. Emma would run off to chase them, with no success. Leah would drop down on the ground, wait for Emma to return, and then the two dogs would chase each other around the field. They loved it.
We'd take both dogs to Brighton Beach, and one sea gull taunted Emma by hovering over her and screeching. Emma was not amused.
She did catch a Cormorant who had been bloated from eating too much human food and could not take off. Cormorants are also known there as "Shags," so we took Sid the Shag home and put him in our bathtub for two nights, until my wife could take him to the RSPCA. He spent the nights and days trying to bite us.
At the RSPCA, he was given disappearing stitches for Emma's bite, treated for any bird illnesses, and released a few days later at a Cormorant colony near us. Doubtless he impressed his buddies with highly inflated tales of how it took 10 men and a Sherman tank to capture him....him being a kung-fu karate Cormorant, you know. A kung-fu karate Cormorant bleeds on the inside, to paraphrase Eddie Murphy in "Trading Places."
My wife and I are on our eighth and ninth dogs...the best two we ever had were both rescues.
The best: Monster the Mighty Moose. 50 percent Rottie (size and facial shape); 25 percent Retriever (sweetness); and 25 percent Terrier (smartness). He came from Newark's Animal Shelter. His favorite thing to do was hop up in the chair we left for him at family dinners at the end of the table, brace his 150 lb. body against an armrest, and gaze around at each of us solemnly in turn. He didn't try to eat food, he just wanted to keep us company. I waited for him to open his mouth and say something wise, but he never did.
His second favorite thing was to introduce himself to people: he would walk behind them, then through their legs from back to front, hold up his head, and you would have to chuckle his chin. After that, he was your friend forever, and he would leap up, plant his forepaws on your shoulders, and give kisses.
He had more personality than many people I knew.
Second was Oscar the Easygoing Blue Dobe, who came from Doberman Rescue Unlimited in New Hampshire. They recommended him to us. He was a "Blue" with uncropped ears, and he was relaxed with everyone: people, cats, other dogs. His favorite thing was to go into the backyard at night and find a possum. He would pick up the possum in his mouth and the possum would "play possum." Then Oscar would carry it over to us in the yard, place it at our feet....and start washing it with his tongue. It was his "pet possum."
Third best is one we have now....Bodhi Bodacious, a Mass of Hot Air and Love. He's a brindle Preso Canarias-Pitbull cross, with a white sugar streak down his nose and a white triangle on the back of his neck, which points forward. You always know where he's going. He plays with his BFF, Gemma Gen the Mass of Chaos and Sweetness, a pure-bred South African Boerboel (Mastiff), runs around the yard, and snoozes with her, but his favorite thing is to come up to his favorite humans and give them kisses.
Let's not forget Leah the Wonder Dog, a pure-bred black Dobie who made history as the first dog to fly directly from the US to New Zealand, where she became a national scandal...a Dobie with cropped ears and no tail in a nation where both steps are illegal. The South Island Doberman Society was going to take us to court, which was funny, as my wife was a field inspector for the RSPCA.
So we drove out to a South Island Doberman Society Ribbon Parade (a fancy name for a picnic), in the RSPCA van. My wife was the duty inspector that weekend. That meant free transportation and petrol, but we would have to get up at 1 a.m. to uplift a dog if necessary.
When the club saw us approaching in the white van, they wondered what was going on, as they were law-abiding Dobie owners. We opened the side door, and our New Zealand adopted farm dog bounced out, Emma the Blunder Dog. She was a brindle who had trouble with people, a broken tooth, but a sweet demeanor. She and Leah were best friends. Emma shot off towards the club's Dobies, clearly thinking "Oh, boy, 10 Leahs!" Then she stopped, clearly thinking, "Wait. There's only one Leah." Then she ran on, thinking, "Oh, who cares? I'll play with them anyway!"
Then Leah gracefully leaped out of the van, and the entire club leaped up from their picnic tables, yelling, "That's him! That's her! That's it! That's the dog!"
A tiny Scottish woman named Terry strode over to us with the ferocity of the 95th Highlanders in the Crimea, pointed at Leah, and asked, "Where did you get that dog?"
My wife answered, "From a breeder in Pennsylvania."
Terry gasped. "YOU'RE YANKS! How did you get that dog through the six-month quarantine in Hawaii?"
My wife said, "Well, it isn't there any more....now it's 30 days in quarantine in Auckland."
They were delighted. Now they could import dogs from America. In seconds, they handed my wife an application form to join the club. After Leah was in, my wife said, "Great. Leah is excellent at obedience. Can we enter the next contest?"
Faces fell. No. She had cropped ears. But while we didn't get into agility events, our two dogs had a good time at the Ribbon Parade, we had good food, and Terry became one of our best friends, visiting us regularly with her two Dobies.
Thanks for sharing, that’s amazing!
I have lots of good dog stories.
When we were in New Zealand, they did the annual "City to Surf Fun Run." I took Leah the Wonder Dog on the route while my Navy unit set up a tent at the end in Queen Elizabeth II Park. My wife went there with Emma the Blunder Dog. Emma was not good with people, and we were reluctant to put her in the walk.
So Leah and I did the walk perfectly, reached our tent, and our Morale Welfare and Recreation folks had free food for all of us. Our dogs soon discovered that if they were on their best behavior, they could be perfect chowhounds.
On the way back in the car, they flatulated noisily from the human food.
I could take them for walks in nearby Hagley Park. You saw it on TV when that nutcase shot up the Christchurch Mosque. The park is opposite the mosque. We lived a block from the park.
Knowing where they were going, the dogs would take me to the park, amusing passing pedestrians. Once there, I let them off the leads.
Hagley Park has a big open field, where seagulls stand in formation. Emma would run off to chase them, with no success. Leah would drop down on the ground, wait for Emma to return, and then the two dogs would chase each other around the field. They loved it.
We'd take both dogs to Brighton Beach, and one sea gull taunted Emma by hovering over her and screeching. Emma was not amused.
She did catch a Cormorant who had been bloated from eating too much human food and could not take off. Cormorants are also known there as "Shags," so we took Sid the Shag home and put him in our bathtub for two nights, until my wife could take him to the RSPCA. He spent the nights and days trying to bite us.
At the RSPCA, he was given disappearing stitches for Emma's bite, treated for any bird illnesses, and released a few days later at a Cormorant colony near us. Doubtless he impressed his buddies with highly inflated tales of how it took 10 men and a Sherman tank to capture him....him being a kung-fu karate Cormorant, you know. A kung-fu karate Cormorant bleeds on the inside, to paraphrase Eddie Murphy in "Trading Places."
Very sweet! Love that dude!
Love this! Craig and I can’t wait to adopt a pup! 🖤