I’m Husaberg, the Monsterdog

Hello, my name is Husaberg. I’m half Czechoslovakian Wolfdog and half Akita. I was born on November 26, 2003 which makes me about 5 years old though I do look so adorable and huggable like a puppy, except that I’m about 115 pounds. I know it’s a lot, but I can’t help it. I think my dad, who is pure Akita, was much heavier than I am now so I got the size from him but not the perky ears. For some reason mine are droopy and never stand straight up like my parents’. But I guess that just adds more to my sweet, innocent looks.

But please don’t get me wrong. I may look really cuddly and everyone always wants to pet me when they see me at Fort Funston or at Ocean Beach, but I get a bit cautious and fidgety around people and other dogs. And there are times when I like to snip at the little guys’ legs though I do not mean to be mean. I think it may be my natural instincts to be so protective and aggressive that I can’t get rid of them so easily.

But I do LOVE my family! I have a mom (she’s typing this for me now) and she has 2 daughters whom I adore tremendously. The older one I especially love because I grew up sleeping in her room and she takes me running with her most of the time. The younger one likes to use my leash as a jump rope and I patiently sit there while she skips right next to me.

Well, that’s all I have for now. I’ll try to find better pics of me soon and post more about me.

Buddy Is A Crappy Name!

So I really don’t like my name.  I have to start out by saying that because being called “Buddy” isn’t very masculine.  I sound like I should be riding a little, yellow bus or be some kid’s glorified Barbie doll.  I should have been named something like Bruiser or Bluto, not that it has to be a “B”name…Geez, I would have even settled for Romeo.  At least than, I would have been considered good with the ladies.  But no, I’m Buddy, old pal, “man’s best friend” and I play the role:  sitting at their feet, letting my tongue hang out, looking like I live for this, “I’m your best mate, crap!” 

Let’s face it, I’m a Bull Dog trapped in a Retriever’s body.  Sometimes, I just want to scream!  Those are the days, when I do something really irritating to the “parental units”; they call themselves “mommy” and “daddy”, so they just let me outside for awhile.  Yeah, you understood me right, like, “mommy loves her little Buddy.” But that’s a whole ‘nother story, for a different day. 

There’s a Bull Dog that lives next door who’s named Riker.  Now that’s a cool name.  I mean Riker isn’t man’s best friend; he’s cool, untouchable, and if you mess with him he’s going to let you know it.  He won’t even give me the time of day.  Once I tried to talk to him through the fence.  I was like, “Hey, what’s up, Riker?”

He asked, “You the Retriever next door, named Buuuddyyy?”  He drew it out like that and it was obvious he was making fun of me, so I deepened my voice, tried to sound really casual and not at all unnerved, “Yeah, I’m Buddy!”

Riker just laughed and said, “Come back and talk to me, when you get a man’s name.”   So, you can see why I might be a little touchy.  I mean here is this really cool guy and even he knows that my name sucks; and let’s face it, he isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.  Well, what are you gonna do about it?

“IT’s” reply

First of all, I’m not IT. My name is Gromit. They rescued me from a shelter where I was known as Dougan; before that I was running with a buddy of mine on the streets and we didn’t have names for each other. I’m not sure exactly where I came from and what I was called when I was just a pup, but the name, Gromit, it’s all good. Heck, if you could’ve seen how his face lit up the first day they brought me home and I looked when he called me; I’d have let him call me Cabbagehead if it was going to bring such a smile to his face.

Anywho, now that I’ve properly introduced myself I’d like to respond to Preston’s post with my own rendition of how we came to eat from the same bowl.

We did meet at the shelter and, dude, l’m sorry to say that my main objective that day was not “wooing” you. I had only been in that joint for a day when they knocked me out and performed a procedure on me that took away any thought I had of hearing the pitter-patter of little paws. Believe me, I know it’s better this way and I’m glad it’s done but I most definitely was not in the mood to be chasing your “play with me, play with me” neurotic self up and down the run. Feeling as I did was bad enough, but I needed to charm the ones who’d be making the decision about whether or not I would be freed from those who would do such a thing to a guy. (Again, very nice people. I am totally grateful to them for saving my life and even for protecting the wandering females but ya gotta understand, it’s hard to want to hang around a place like that!)

So I stuck close by them, especially him. You’re right about her being the alpha but I just knew that she’d defer to him. She’s an animal person (especially dogs) and will ultimately work out any relationship. He’s a little tougher and (I heard her say) it was more important that he be comfortable with the new addition. She’d make it work for everyone. I apologize again dude but I knew what I had to do.

The next day they came back for me and got us all kinds of treats. I wasn’t so interested in those to begin with; I was eager to check out the new digs. It was cool seeing you there. I knew you had it good when we first met and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy at first but I was also fully aware of what a wimp you are. No offense – you said it yourself – alpha you ain’t. I cruised around a bit. Fine. For crying out loud though give a brother some space! My entire house tour was spent with you all up in my grill. Geeez! The whole circuit would’ve taken like 5 minutes if you weren’t pulling on me. Instead I had to keep circling in order to dodge you. They were more bothered by it than I was but it was a relief to have you outside so I could check things out. Nice place.

Ultimately, things all worked out save the time you made it back in and decided to “guard” your food. You really didn’t need to do that. All it got you was a return trip to the other side of the door. I’m sorry for that, too. No worries from me in the ways of nourishment. I’ve always made out just fine. Surprising, but true.

I’ll end my entry by thanking you for sharing your home and family with me. I see it happening some already, but, dude, you really need to chill out about a lot of stuff. I’m pretty easy to get along with and I think we’ll have some good times. I’ll be expressing a few thoughts about my new arrangements and am looking forward to learning a few tricks from each other!

Cheers, dude!

HellO!

My name is Preston and this is my first blog entry. I thought it was time that I start getting my inner voice out for the world to hear. I’ve been thinking about blogging for some time now but didn’t have the motivation until something they did last week really pushed me to the edge. You see, I’ve been living with them for just about two years and we were, in my opinion, a very happy family. I was the baby, the one and only – top dog if you know what I mean. Sure, there were times when he got nervous because I was making too much noise or overly excited when guests arrived. What can I say – it’s my duty to let them know when there’s something worth paying attention to. As far as the visitors- I LOOOOOOVE company! Besides, she and I have been working on those things and she tells him all the time that I’m “getting much better.”

Regardless of these tiny misdemeanors things were great! He was attempting to bond with me – his version, anyway. Not always the best choices for me but I just want to be liked so I played along; sitting in his lap, letting him carry me around. Within the past few months I even reached “sofa status” – as long as there was no fooling around; for that I was getting more than a respectable amount of playtime outside! *Just a quick note about him: he’s a great guy he just doesn’t understand me so well. He’s never been mean to me (doesn’t have a mean bone in his body) and tries and thinks and talks all about how to relate to me. He’s a self admitted non-alpha and, well, that’s hard for me and we all know it! She, on the other hand, takes her alpha role very seriously with everyone – not just me. He compliments her often telling her how grounded she is and how we’d all be a mess without her. I’m just now embarking on therapy (thanks to the happening of last week that I’ll be getting to in a moment) so I’m not exactly sure what that means but the way he says it, I think it’s a good thing.

So, (long pause) last week. Precisely a week ago today. They (both of them) brought IT home. I should have known something was happening because just the day before they (she actually took me and he met us there) brought me to meet IT. I hadn’t been concerned seeing we went to the place where I go to school. We went to a different building and then went to play outside (what fun!) and then out IT came. Honestly, I didn’t care too much about IT and IT didn’t care too much about me. I tried to play with IT but IT wasn’t really into my game and he kept talking about how much smaller IT was and how I had to be careful so I decided it would be more fun playing ball with them instead. We all went to the park right outside my usual building and IT almost started to mess around but not quite and, as I said earlier, I didn’t really care. We both got in trouble for trying to go in the water, mud actually, and then it was time to go. We brought it back to it’s building and went home. Good Enough.

So I thought.

The next morning they left the house together (without me – not uncommon, I don’t go everywhere all the time) and just one short hour later they brought came home. With IT. I was dumbfounded. Ambushed. This couldn’t be right. Maybe IT was just here for a visit. Others have come but usually not on their own. IT began investigating every inch of the house: our house; my house. This didn’t seem to be a problem for them. They followed IT around watching, smiling and even encouraging IT to investigate different rooms. The only logical answer to this was that their brains had somehow been tampered with by aliens. I had to take matters into my own paws. I tried running after IT and tugging it’s ears. He told me to stop so I did – for a few seconds. Then I tried to grab IT’s neck leg, ear again anything that would end this invasion!

“PRESTON, STOP!” It was her. This wasn’t good. She put me outside and closed the door. I looked in all the doors. When I got ’round to the kitchen you’ll never believe what I saw. IT was on the sofa. The very sofa that it took me the better part of a year on which to earn “sitting quietly” privileges! Obviously I had to get back in there. Luckily, I mastered re-entry rights: immediately I lay down with my back to the door and looked disinterested. 5-4-3-2-1…YES! Winner! The door opened I remained calm , cool and collected. Once I got the word, I sprung…onto the sofa which proved to be a very, very terrible idea. Back outside I went. This time however I was given the most wonderful chewy donut. Luck-Y! I looked at her for a moment she assured me it would all be ok. Who was I to argue with the Alpha. If they (she) didn’t see a problem with this who was I to worry? I went off to enjoy my (only mine, given to me not IT) most fantabulous treat!