Looking alert at South Boulder Mesa
Don't be fooled -- he's no herbivore.
Daly is still well-behaved -- especially given his puppy age, still curious as ever, and realizing now that he can reach a lot more with his front paws when he stands on his hind pair, and hop up onto more couches and beds (though the easily attainable seats in my truck still scare him from trying, for some reason…maybe he hates the music I play). There's almost a sadness when out of the corner of my eye, I wonder who the grown dog is, and realize how fast true puppy days fly by. But there is still enough hilarious excitement on display to crack me up more than a few times a day, like when he jerks his head when called and twists his body in one motion into a full hop/bound/run, or kicks into the half-bunny-hop, or prances around like there are springs on the pad of each paw.
Water dog! Scrappin' after his first dip in Boulder Creek.
He's got a shiny new collar now (very Colorado: made from recycled bicycle tubing and affixed with a bottle opener as the catch), a nylon leash, and a badass ID tag with a skull & crossbones on one side. Oh, and he's officially adopted now too…guess I failed to mention that little development! The friends who insisted that was only an eventual formality were right in that this little wolf is too awesome a buddy to give up. So now I'm just (to borrow a line from a concert-going hippie I met) trying to be half the person my dog thinks I am.
Yes, that is a bottle opener on the new collar...
My dog just became about 10x more useful.
Ps. I just discovered he chewed up my housemate's expensive sandals. That little bastard. I am NOT so thrilled with his puppy-ness at the moment…please disregard all those nice things I just said about him.
Diggin' his ball…that's what he's SUPPOSED to chew!
Despite the number of books -- both fictional and nonfictional -- recommended to me about the lifelong bond with a dog, or the love a dog gives unconditionally, or how tender dog meat can actually be (OK, in fairness, I haven't seen those since Malaysia), I haven't really dug into a single one. And I really don't think I'm about to. Look, I don't doubt that there are some very poignant and well-written tomes on the subject, and perhaps someday I'll take a deeper look for myself. It's just that right now, at this point, I want to experience every new step in the Daly show with open eyes and without expectations based on something I read. Training books are another matter -- those I have actually looked into, especially when seeking an answer. Unsurprisingly, he seems to respond well to displays of affection, even more so when accompanied by treats.
...devouring treats after another Mt. Sanitas ascent
I'm not completely clueless on the subject, as there is some past experience in my life -- while Daly is the first I've adopted, he's not the first with whom I've bonded or even the first I've 'daddied.' Sometimes I'm struck by the puppy similarities, in look, build and demeanor, between Daly and a similarly mixed mutt I helped to initially raise in NYC. A girlfriend adopted a puppy from a Collie rescue in NJ, and just like this guy, her other half was probably at least Shepherd or something similar…the dog, that is. I had a lot of fun with that pup throughout the first year of her life, training her, walking her, introducing her to dog parks, and of course playing with her, before the relationship with her owner finally ended.
Fauna the pup, on a hike back in '08
There's Bodie of course, who's lived with me for most of his life, accompanied me on many hikes, traumatized me with his run-over-by-an-SUV stunt, and then pulled an amazing recovery. He's an aloof weirdo, and I love him for it. There's Dana, who taught me how sweet Pit Bulls can be despite grunting and rooting like a lizard-pig every day, and whose tenacious dog-park shortstop skills will always make me smile. There have been quite a few others with whom I've shared a roof, a trail and/or a sidewalk over the years, through housemates, cousins and friends…more than I'll attempt to recall, for fear of leaving out a canine buddy.
Daly's big brother, the Bodester
Dana anxiously sweating out a thunderstorm
But my first favorite will always be Barney, my grandparents' dog for much of my youth. I loved going for walks with that guy (it didn't hurt that he lived in a beautiful stretch of the Hudson Valley). Smart, obedient, and sweet-natured. Barney was a classic faithful mutt too, and really formed my impression of what a dog should be -- up to and including when his life gave out the very day we laid my grandma Min to rest. Now THAT is love and loyalty.
Stretch them limbs & ears, pup…
