Dogs and Gods, Gods and Dogs.

We just came back from the p-a-r-k. We don't say the word here anymore, it is just better this way.

There are some days that I would almost rather swallow lye than take the Goon Squad to the p-a-r-k. It is not always fun for the two-leggers in the family to accompany three loud, pushy, attention seeking dogs, and Kirby, to a muddy, wet, loud area full of other pushy, attention seeking dogs, but it is a necessity. Dogs need to socialize, dogs need to bark, dogs need to run, jump, swim, play and roll in really gross stuff that smells like something from Calvin Klein to them.

Then there are nights like tonight that cause me to stop, smile, and remember why I love these little gifts from a benevolent goddess so very much.

My MacKenzie is a beautiful dog. She is needy, difficult and oh-so-very-sweet. She runs like the wind, she is poetry in motion. I watch her bounding, carefree, across the park, and every single moment of frustration, aggravation, doubt, anger and sadness just disappears. She is totally worth every ounce of effort we have put into her, and although she may never be "perfect", who cares? Who among us is perfect? She is an amazingly resilient animal and she will survive. MacKenzie is the dog most like me. Remember that when you hear stories about the days she was referred to as "Sharka".

Madison is the Chief Inspector of the Canine Fun Police. She is clearly a believer in "misery loves company", but one has to admire the Chutzpa of a dog who will invade the petting space in front of another dog's human, then growl at that dog if she/he comes too close. Maddie is Eeyore before Prozac, "nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I think I'll go slit my paws...." Poor Muddy-Puddles, she's a beautiful, screwed-up mess.

Then we have Junior. Jasmine the Rottweiler in a Shiht-Tzu-for-brains body. The dog gods were cruel when they put that spirit and that attitude into that body. Tonight a young intact male dog tried to mount Kirby. He didn't react much, but 14 lb Jasmine protected 65 lb Kirby from the unwanted advances of the 40-odd lb sexual miscreant. She was ready to do a complete neuter, sans anesthetic, on the grass at Trout Lake. Jazz has no idea that other dogs see her as a cat that barks, she truly believes she is a Bull breed. Rock on little sister!

Kirby..........
Kirby..........
Poor, sweet, dumb as dirt Studly Boy. I love him. I adore him. I feel privileged to share his life, but there are moments when I wake up panicked, thinking he has forgotten to breath.
He is a physically gorgeous dog. He's this deep, rich reddish-brown and has awesome eyes. And he loves me. Almost as much as he loves his own Mr Winky.
Kirby will never hurt anyone. Well yes, he will, he'll hurt Christine and Angelina and he will break my heart, when he leaves us, a hundred years from now. He will never cause pain willingly, though, Kirby is a lover, not a fighter. He trusts me, and that is a responsibility I cherish and take very seriously. If I ever hurt this dear, damaged boy, I would never forgive myself.
Watching Kirby slowly, slowly emerge from his shell of fear, distrust and anxiety at the p-a-r-k is beautiful. He has come so far, my sweet prince, my mancub, my dogly-dog. He is taking chances, trying hard to grow stronger, and I will kill with my bare hands anyone who ever causes my boy pain.

Chunka-Chunka Burnin' Shih Tzu hates the p-a-r-k. Of course she does....DOGS go there. Chunky will never be convinced she is a dog. Prima Donna, yes, Queen of All She Surveys, naturally, but dog? I dare anyone to tell Chunk she's a dog! I'll be waiting in the hallway with the First Aid kit. Chunky hates to get her feet wet. Or cold. She hates rain, too much sun, sand, mud, rocks, or pebbles. She is quite happy to be doted upon, worshipped and revered. And she is. Chunky is our dog most like Christine. They actually resemble one another, which is cute but a little odd....

Our Clio is a walking ad for the will to live. This little miracle never should have been born, never should have survived, never should have lived, but God, I am so glad she beat the odds.....over and over again. She's blind, seriously brain-injured, has luxating patellas, was thrown from a moving car on Boundary at Marine Drive, and ended up at the Shelter where I am an Animal Control Officer.
At any other Shelter, Clio would have been destroyed. Our little miracle met Christine, they began a relationship that has morphed into a mutual admiration society that makes me love Christine even more than I did before Clio. Clio adores Chris. She loves me, but I am clearly "the other mother". Christine is the centre of her universe, and she has great friends in Angelina, Wendy Ruth and Candis. Not bad for a creature that was given no more status than garbage, a forgotten little dog who knew knew nothing but fear, pain and hopelessness. Sometimes humans really suck, but Clio has given our species another chance. Christine, Angelina, Wendy, Candis ans I will do our best to honour her trust. Always.

I'm going to hug my Goonies, I owe so much of my happiness and good mental health to them.