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Description
So, I got a new puppy about a month ago, a little male called Piker. Pikers are Irish gypsies with a reputation to steal, fight, and trick. My guy is well-named, because he can't stay out of trouble for very long. He's a smart little fella; he's very attentive and too curious for his own good. Pike spent the first 7 weeks of his life outside in the Texas heat, so he thinks air conditioning is some kind of miracle. I've never seen a dog that hated the heat so much. When we walk he stops to sit in the shade. My new house has floor vents, and Pike lays on top of them to take a nap.
Somewhat uncanny intelligence for something that's been alive for 10 weeks. I've surprised myself with how much I'm starting to adore him, despite the fact that I've equally wanted to strangle him for ruining a screen, a cell phone charger, and a couple of blinds. I'm hardly an inattentive dog owner, but Pike sure makes me feel that way. His da is a guard dog at a body shop who weighs 128. What a legacy!

Actually, Pike has a larger legacy to inherent: Dexter's. Dex is my 12 year old Rottweiler, although he's more my mom's than mine. When we were younger we belonged to each other. Dexter is the best dog I’ve ever known, the kind of dog that inspired Jack London, Fred Gipson, and Alfred Peyson Terhune to write. Loyal, attentive, comforting, and protective. It’s gotten kind of painful to watch my hero start to limp and struggle to move past the arthritis in the morning, but I suppose that’s the greatest lesson that dogs teach us. Life is short, love it while you can. Dexter has been very tolerant of little Piker. Dexter has come to stay with me for a little while; one last job for my guardian.

Dexter really was my best friend when I was younger; once I hit puberty all my human friends just kind of grew in different directions. I lost my best friend in 7th grade or so, and didn’t get a new one until my junior year of high school. So Dex filled the niche in the meantime. I don’t mean to sound like a complete loser (although I probably was), or sickly sweet sentimental (although I probably am). When I got my back surgery my freshman year of high school, I had to rehabilitate. I couldn’t even lift my arm to throw a ball, but Dexter didn’t mind. I’d like flick my wrist and drop the ball, and Dex acted like I’d thrown it a football field. He’d come zooming back like “Way to GO, champ! Give it another go, please, please, please!”

My pets have always inspired me, and I think I drew Dexter more than anything, except maybe horses. He starred as himself in a comic strip I did about toys coming to life. Dexter also seeped into the closest thing I’ve ever had to a ‘fursona’, that of Garrick. I roleplayed Garrick all the time and drew him way too much (he’s the psychotic looking rottweiler drawings.) A lot of people have that hero animal character that, if they had their way, would rip out the throat of bullies and fawn over their creator before crowds of impressed and terrified high-schoolers. Garrick was that for me. His legacy lives on in my email handle. But Garrick was basically an extension of Dexter. The same goes for Cerastes, Vindex, and yes, even Strongheart the Rottweiler Carebear Cousin.

I don’t think it’s a shameful thing at all to say that the best person you’ve ever known was a dog. It says a lot about humanity, not so much the individual. Piker is doing things that Dexter used to do, like lying with his hind legs played out behind him and tapping the cats with his forepaws. Things Dex grew out of and I forgot. It’s been a delight to rediscover them, and rediscover what it means to have another Rottweiler. So here’s to the torch being passed. Here’s to another generation of loyalty and friendship. Here’s to tradition.

Go hug your pet!

Description
So, I got a new puppy about a month ago, a little male called Piker. Pikers are Irish gypsies with a reputation to steal, fight, and trick. My guy is well-named, because he can't stay out of trouble for very long. He's a smart little fella; he's very attentive and too curious for his own good. Pike spent the first 7 weeks of his life outside in the Texas heat, so he thinks air conditioning is some kind of miracle. I've never seen a dog that hated the heat so much. When we walk he stops to sit in the shade. My new house has floor vents, and Pike lays on top of them to take a nap.
Somewhat uncanny intelligence for something that's been alive for 10 weeks. I've surprised myself with how much I'm starting to adore him, despite the fact that I've equally wanted to strangle him for ruining a screen, a cell phone charger, and a couple of blinds. I'm hardly an inattentive dog owner, but Pike sure makes me feel that way. His da is a guard dog at a body shop who weighs 128. What a legacy!

Actually, Pike has a larger legacy to inherent: Dexter's. Dex is my 12 year old Rottweiler, although he's more my mom's than mine. When we were younger we belonged to each other. Dexter is the best dog I’ve ever known, the kind of dog that inspired Jack London, Fred Gipson, and Alfred Peyson Terhune to write. Loyal, attentive, comforting, and protective. It’s gotten kind of painful to watch my hero start to limp and struggle to move past the arthritis in the morning, but I suppose that’s the greatest lesson that dogs teach us. Life is short, love it while you can. Dexter has been very tolerant of little Piker. Dexter has come to stay with me for a little while; one last job for my guardian.

Dexter really was my best friend when I was younger; once I hit puberty all my human friends just kind of grew in different directions. I lost my best friend in 7th grade or so, and didn’t get a new one until my junior year of high school. So Dex filled the niche in the meantime. I don’t mean to sound like a complete loser (although I probably was), or sickly sweet sentimental (although I probably am). When I got my back surgery my freshman year of high school, I had to rehabilitate. I couldn’t even lift my arm to throw a ball, but Dexter didn’t mind. I’d like flick my wrist and drop the ball, and Dex acted like I’d thrown it a football field. He’d come zooming back like “Way to GO, champ! Give it another go, please, please, please!”

My pets have always inspired me, and I think I drew Dexter more than anything, except maybe horses. He starred as himself in a comic strip I did about toys coming to life. Dexter also seeped into the closest thing I’ve ever had to a ‘fursona’, that of Garrick. I roleplayed Garrick all the time and drew him way too much (he’s the psychotic looking rottweiler drawings.) A lot of people have that hero animal character that, if they had their way, would rip out the throat of bullies and fawn over their creator before crowds of impressed and terrified high-schoolers. Garrick was that for me. His legacy lives on in my email handle. But Garrick was basically an extension of Dexter. The same goes for Cerastes, Vindex, and yes, even Strongheart the Rottweiler Carebear Cousin.

I don’t think it’s a shameful thing at all to say that the best person you’ve ever known was a dog. It says a lot about humanity, not so much the individual. Piker is doing things that Dexter used to do, like lying with his hind legs played out behind him and tapping the cats with his forepaws. Things Dex grew out of and I forgot. It’s been a delight to rediscover them, and rediscover what it means to have another Rottweiler. So here’s to the torch being passed. Here’s to another generation of loyalty and friendship. Here’s to tradition.

Go hug your pet!