Sunday, October 18, 2009

About a dog named Sammy.

Thanks Wikipedia for the photo
I found out last week by the city code enforcement that there are no chickens allowed. I had been hoping to get a foot forward towards our land, which is a few hundred miles away, by building a chicken coop and getting a couple chicks. In short clipped words my hopes were dashed.Oh, I'll still get my chickens, just not until we move.

This got me thinking about what animals I could get which I found I'm limited to the standard dog or cat. We have two cats already. A silly boy named Hiro and a fat bitchy girl, Molly. They're a few years old and occasionally bring me kitty sacrifices like gorgeous butterflies and the occasional squirrel. Yuck. At least they raise my hopes for being good barn cats. Somehow though, I think the butterflies are from Hiro,they just seem more his style and I don't think Molly would lower herself to such simplicity. Give her one of those pain in the ass squirrels that taunt the cats by running up a telephone pole and chittering squirrel obscenities a safe distance out of reach and you've given her a fair conquest. Be damned butterflies, squirrels just have more oomph.

So while I'm perfectly pleased with my pansy Hiro and crabby Molly (who I think would be great at kitty roller derby) I'm pretty settled with the cats we have. That just leaves a dog.

Rob and I aren't what you'd call "dog people". We like dogs. We grew up with dogs but many of the dog obsessing attributes just aren't there. So why do we want one? Well, it's easy. Dogs are cool. You will not ever find us with a dog in a stroller, those are for babies. Human ones. You won't find us dressing up a dog either. It's just not right (even if we had made one of our cats a faux lion mane hat one year for Halloween, that's different because cats hate that and it's funny). I can probably promise I will never have a bumper sticker saying "I love my dog" or "dog taxi". Not going to happen.

I personally can't stand tiny dogs either. Anything under, say, thirty pounds and it's more like a yippy toy to me. I want a dog that makes people reel when I walk down the street. A dog that doesn't take a "poo" but requires some heavy duty shit shoveling. One that needs a tranq gun instead of baby Benedryl. In essence, I want a small bear or pony that gets it's DNA in the canine family.

Tiny dogs are great but I treat them like single people with kids. Play with them a little and give them back. I know. I have single friends with small dogs. I play with their dogs, they play with my kids then take our property back at the end each having had our fill of the other. We get along great.

So, here comes Sammy. I fell absolutely head over heels in love with the first Newfoundland puppy I met. I haven't been the same since. I know that if the totally wonderful family hadn't been there scooping him up we would have. He was solid black and named Sammie and that just felt right to call this big bear of a dog. Even at six months the Sammie we met was well into the 50+lb range. Mmmm.

I wish Rob could have been there to see that lovely dog being tackled by toddlers and never even making a yip. Shaking off the kids and padding on huge paws a few feet away when he had too much. He was truly the gentle giant the breed is described as.

Now my heart is opened up a space for a 150lb black dog. I imagine Sammie romping with his two little boys that adopted him and picture our own Newfie, Sammy girl, romping some day with my bairn. We'd excavate the pond on our land so she can be true to her water loving nature and throw her mannequins to rescue.

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