Approximately 8 years ago today, my big, goofy dog was born in an undisclosed backyard in Arizona. He lived with two other owners and then made it to me at about 5 months of age, never having been inside a house (I didn't realize this until I had him in my house and found out he wasn't house trained, then I read his admission paperwork).
While sometimes I might wonder if the first summer of his life spent in the heat of an Arizona backyard might have melted a couple of his brain cells, he's special in his own way (He's the only dog I have known to run into a parked car).
He saved me from snakes (He was snake-trained, I recently found out his training wore off). He saved me from dubious people at gas stations and even a break-in. I'm pretty sure his 70-pound body scared those people off. As my upstairs neighbors said, "we were kind of worried when we heard all the noise and when it sounded like someone was breaking in to your place. Then we heard your dog and remembered his size and knew you'd be ok."
He's the only mammal in my house without special medical needs or requirements for medication or rehab. Other than a sensitive stomach, he's the picture of perfect health (unlike my cat). I wanted to rename him when I got him, but he's really kind of a dufus- so Dewey the dufus kind of fits him. He's loyal, he gets excited for attention and he has an internal time clock for treats and waking up that beats my toddler's. My son's athletic abilities and balance I think are somewhat related to our dog's size and uncontrollable tail. Any toddler who can survive and learn to balance with a bounding, goofy dog definitely has an edge.
Happy Birthday Dewey. You've been through a lot with me, including my single days when you were the best male friend I could have had. I'm looking forward to as many more birthdays with you as the Good Lord sees fit. Maybe St. Peter could put in a good word and say that Heaven isn't ready for the massive destruction your tail causes.... just yet.
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