My Jay.

This is my Jay.

My Jay has a great smile.

He’s a handsome fella, and he brings me such joy… and occasionally frustration… but mostly joy.

I love his short stature... reminds me of a warthog.  Sometimes I call him my little porker.

I’ve moved basically to a new country every year for over a decade, and having a dog wasn’t ever high on my priority list (or on the list of remote possibilities).  I never really considered myself a pet person, but I think that was mostly because of my lifestyle (i.e. moving to a new country every year).  When I got this job and knew I’d be staying in one place for a few years at least, I started to look at the options for rescues in Pretoria.  I had some criteria:

1.  Must be a rescue

2. Must be an adult dog, preferably a senior dog. No way do I have the patience for a puppy. Not in a million years.

3. Must be a size that if he/she is unconscious I can still lift them, and be able to control them on a leash (big dogs out).

He approves of my pillows.

So I asked around and found the rescue that was most highly recommended in this area, and got a friend to go out with me one Saturday last August.  I was looking specifically at senior dogs (10+ years old) because it’s super expensive to move a dog across the planet, and I had 4ish years in Pretoria, so if I got a senior dog I could give them a fabulous end of life, wouldn’t have to deal with the crazy puppy stage, and they would die before I had to move them.  I also had a thing for floppy ears and wasn’t going to consider a shepherd because of previous experiences I’ve had with psycho shepherds. 

So we walked around and looked at doggies and I picked out a few that met the criteria, and took them into the play area to see how they interact.  They were fine, but I wasn’t feeling the that’s my dog feeling I wanted… and generally, in big life decisions, if I’m not 100% yes, it’s a no.  And taking on the life of another living creature for a significant period of time is no small thing.

Once when I was reading all day he made his displeasure known. 

So we continued to wander, I was actually thinking maybe we just leave and try again in a few weeks, when we went into a pen to look at an old lab.  She was a bit larger than I wanted, but sweet, so we sat down and started to interact, when this little brown mix of some kind came over and pressed himself up against me.  I could tell he was part shepherd and I was not interested, so I kind of pushed him out of the way so I could interact with the lab.  But he came back.  So I started petting him, and looked at him.  He kept pressing himself up against me, and was the first dog I had interacted with that was doing that.  I found out his name is Jay, he’s about 8 or 9 years old (they said… more on that later), and a shepherd/basset cross.  He was so cuddly right from the start, and came whenever I said his name.  I went all into analyst mode, thinking well, he’s a bit younger than I planned, but he’s the right size, and a great temperament, and short hair… all the things.  After about twenty minutes, I felt it, like, he’s my dog. 

So we filled out paperwork and they visited my house to make sure it’s all right and the next weekend I went and got him.  This photo was taken that weekend.  He definitely picked me, and we hit it off from the beginning.

He’s a dream dog.  I won the dog lottery with him.  He never once used the house for a bathroom, he even poops in the far corner of the yard so I don’t ever step in it. He doesn’t dig, he doesn’t chew on anything but toys, he doesn’t bark (except when we are playing and occasionally at cats), he’s a dream on the leash, and he’s very happy to sleep all day long.  He jumped on the bed once, and I pulled him off and said NO, and he never once did it again.  He loves to cuddle but if I’m busy with something else he’ll just take himself for a nap in the other room.  He’s everything I could have asked for, truly.

He also knows how to give paw (shake), here he is hoping I'll drop a scrap of what I'm cooking for him.  And his little Dobby ears are the cutest. 

I took him to the vet about a week after I got him just to make sure he was healthy and to get a couple things looked at; when I was there I noted when they started a chart for him they put his age as 4 years old.  I said, no, the rescue said he was 8 or 9 years old.  The doctor said oh no, not a chance. He’s 3-4 for sure.  I wonder if the rescue just told me that because they knew I was looking for an older dog?  But regardless, I rolled my eyes then, but now I love him and it doesn’t matter how much it costs, he’ll move with me wherever my life journey goes next. 

Post-run euphoria.

I wonder at his story.  He was obviously owned by people and trained; occasionally he cowers but very rarely so I don’t think he was beaten by humans, but he doesn’t have any front top teeth and his bottom front teeth are all broken down to nubs.  He has a tare in one ear and a scar across his muzzle; his life can’t have been sunshine and roses, I wonder where he came from, how old he is, what he has experienced.  Was he abandoned? A runaway? He’s so loving and sweet and gentle, I can’t imagine why anyone would give him up.  The shelter I got him from acquired him from another shelter about 4 months previous and didn’t have any history on him. Sometimes I look at him and wish he could talk; I’d love to know where his little paws have been.

I call him my soulmate; he fits so perfectly into my life and heart I can’t imagine existing without him. Especially now, as I’m spending 24/7 home alone, if it weren’t for him I don’t know what kind of mental state I’d be in. He gives me a reason to get out of bed, he cuddles with me, he likes to play and run and clean up my kitchen floor and lick the tears from my face.  I’ve accepted that I’ve become one of those people with an album full of doggy photos and doggy fur stuck to my sweatpants; once a guy I was dating scolded him and I knew that was the last date we were going to have.  I never thought I could love a non-human as much as I love this guy.  Thanks for picking me, I’ll be forever grateful you did.

yum.