|
I've had three great dogs. Pele, a mutt we found at the humane society, they said he would grow to be 70 pounds, he grew to be 120+ pounds. He would play Soccer together (yes, he'd run full sprint, nudging the ball with his nose into the goal). We'd take naps in the lawn, one of us would use the other as a pillow. He was deathly afraid of thunder, so if I were at school, or work I would just bail out of my class or work as soon as I heard a thunderstorm coming, put him in the laundry room, and play classical music with the drier running to keep him calm. He jumped our six foot fence multiple times, and ended up at the grocery store a few (just seeking cover from the thunder, and I'm sure he didn't mind snagging a few apples for himself). He died at 5 years old.
Leon was my golden retriever, always wants to play. Mi abuelo (grandpa) asked if he could have him (they were moving to a house in Utah, and would like the company). They're great, he still gets spoiled, he gets to run with horses everyday, and everything.
Bishop is my rottie/blue heeler. My hiking buddy. He'd run 10 yards ahead of you, and if he saw anyone on the trail he'd stop, and wait for me to leash him (people don't seem to react too well to rottie's out on the trails). He loved games of tug-o-war. I remember a friend trying to grab his toy from him, and struggling for 30 minutes before I finally said "Bishop, drop it", she was pissed when he just let go. Oh, and he loved the snow, running wild through it grabbing some in his mouth, just running in circles. When I left for Iraq I gave him to a friend who lives on a farm, and now he gets to run in the open spaces out there. When I get my house I'd love to get a dog, but it'd be just me, I couldn't see leaving the pup for almost half the day every day alone.
|