Category: Mocha Madness
Yip yip yip yip yip! Yip yip yip yip yip! Bark bark bark. Bark woof woof bark. Woof woof woof. Woof woof woof.
Woof woof woof. Woof woof woof. Bark bark bark!
Bark woof woof. Woof woof woof. Woof woof woof. Snort!
Translated from Dog:
Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I made some new friends today! Daddy took me on a doggie play date, where I made two new friends: Melvin & Cabbie. Both of them are rescues too, just like me. And they’re bigger than me.
They love to wrestle and play, just as much as I do. Especially Cabbie. Boy he’s a lot of fun!
But you know what? I still dominated. Oh yea, that’s right I did. Booyah!
Bark bark bark! Woof woof woof. Woof woof bark bark! Bark woof woof. Woof woof woof. Woof woof woof. Whine whine whimper. Woof woof woof. Woof bark woof.
Woof woof woof. Bark bark bark! Grrr bark woof. Grrr arrr arrr. Woof woof woof.
Translated from Dog:
Daddy took me to the cafe today! He gave me a cup of water and some treats. There were so many interesting smells! Lots of people petted me and called me cute. I walked all around his chair and sometimes I got stuck. I didn’t like that. Daddy freed me each time though. I liked that.
I hope I get to go again. It was fun! Except for the flies. I hate those little things flying around my head. Maybe next time I will eat one.
It’s amazing how quickly Mocha has begun warming up to us and his new home. Maybe it’s the medication wearing off. Maybe it’s all the love and attention he’s getting. Or maybe it’s his emancipation. Whatever it is, he’s already playing around like he’s been here forever.
Treats in a Kong
work pretty well, it seems. Unfortunately, he seems to get frustrated once he’s gotten the easy stuff out, then leaves the Kong along.
He just loves this rope bone
. Mocha will grab it and toss it around, then roll on the ground and hold it above his face with his front paws. The rope bone is soggy with doggie saliva by the time he’s done with it. Gross.
Lookit him, chillin’ like a villain with his new toys. Dawww.
After picking Mocha up from the vet, I walked him for a bit so we could get to know one another. I also wanted him to poop and pee before coming into the apartment. Fortunately, that seemed to work. No poop or pee in the apartment! Whew.
He cowered away from other people though, especially men. It made me wonder if he was abused earlier in his life. His tail was permanently tucked between his legs as we walked around. Poor little guy.
He wandered around the place, sniffing every little corner and crevice. Mocha was still nervous, so I tried to be as calm as possible. He eventually gravitated towards a particular corner and laid down.
This probably didn’t help, but I couldn’t resist taking lots of pictures. I felt like a new Dad who takes thousands of pictures of his first child. If we ever get a second dog, he’s going to have like just two pictures. Ever.
I played with him as often as I could, so he could grow comfortable with me. Being in a drowsy state, he entertained me a bit, then wandered back to his new favorite corner to nap.
At one point, Mocha got up, so I outfitted his corner with an old towel and some dog toys. He just sniffed them and laid down again. I think I had more fun with his toys than he did. That sounds dirty. I mean, I had fun arranging them around his head for my photos.
As expected, Mocha was pretty timid on his first day with us. He eat well though, despite being heavily medicated from the neutering operation. That was a great sign, especially since he was so emaciated. (I kept saying he was emancipated, to which Mia finally replied, “Well, of course he’s emancipated. He’s out of the shelter now, a free dog.” Hardy har har.)
Welcome home, Mocha! You’re a free dog now.
Today I picked up our new best friend from the veterinarian. He was just neutered, chipped, and vaccinated – all necessary things to do for most family pets.
He was pretty drugged up and mellow. I imagined him thinking, “Dude, this is like… dude… what’s going… where am… dude… this is all like so… dude…” Not sure why I imagined him talking like a surfer dude, but I did.
The stitches were red and raw. I couldn’t help taking a peek, then grabbing my own balls and shrieking in sympathetic pain. “I’m sorry boy, I’m real sorry,” I whimpered. His balls looked like a shriveled little prune sack. How sad.
We don’t know his exact birthday, nor his exact age, since he’s from an animal shelter. Just the same, we decided to make today – May 26th, 2009 – his 1-yo birthday. Being the geek that I am, I marked it on my Google Calendar so I wouldn’t forget. You laugh now, but wait ’till you forget a birthday and wish you had a Google Alert warning you of a friend’s upcoming birthday.
We have a feeling Mocha is probably younger than a year right now. But just so we could stick to the human convention of celebrating an entire revolution around the Sun, and because we’re a bunch of saps, we made today his birthday.
Happy Birthday shriveled-prune-sack dude!
It was love at first wag. Almost.
We spotted him in the cage with another lively pooch. He was lying down, looking bored and uninterested in us. The other dog came up and sniffed our fingers eagerly.
I don’t know what it was about him. Maybe his totally & utterly insane cuteness? I dunno. But after months of visiting local animal shelters and dog rescue organizations, we asked to play with this bored fella right away, bypassing Mr. Lively.
The shelter attendant took him out of the cage and over to the meet & greet pen. It’s a small fenced-in area with a bench, a tree, and a trash can & pooper scooper – perfect for being introduced to a potential new best friend. If you hit it off, you sign some papers, pay a small fee, and pick up your new four-legged furry friend in a few days (after the vet spays or neuters your friend, a painful necessity). If not, back to the cage he goes.
Friends with dogs told us that we’ll just know when the right dog comes along. Armed with a general idea of what we wanted and what we could handle, we approached every dog we met with an open mind.
What we wanted was a medium-sized dog with a chill temperament. That ruled out lots of breeds, like Rottweilers, German Shepherds, Chihuahuas, etc. Of course, it’s always possible to get a calm dog of one of those breeds, but unless they were mixed, they wouldn’t be medium-sized.
The first dog we asked to see was a beagle & chihuahua mix. Nice, cute as a button, but ultra-hyper. Back in the cage he went.
The second dog was also cute as a button, but was already adopted. Rats!
The next few dogs were from a dog rescue organization that visited our local Petco every weekend. We picked up a few dogs, big and small. Petted them. Played with them. But none quite fit our fancy.
Then we saw this bored little fella.
As soon as we hit the pen, he was off, sniffing the grass and dirt. Then he sniffed us. He wasn’t too frantic, but still a little weary.
“What kind of dog is he?” we asked.
“We think he’s a mix of a Golden Retriever and Terrier,” said the attendant. We later decided that he was more of a Labrador Retriever than a Golden, because of his short hairs. Someone else later suggested that the Terrier was a Jack Russell Terrier, which seemed to make a lot of sense too.
“How old is he?”
The attendant looked at his paws. “Looking at his paws, he’s fully grown. This will be about his full size, once he’s well fed.” She pointed at his ribs. “Poor guy hasn’t had a good meal in a long time. He’s probably under 20 pounds right, but with a good diet and loving home, he might grow to about 25 pounds.”
We nodded. He was the size we wanted.
Then the attendant checked his teeth. “He looks to be about a year old, we think. His permanent teeth have all fully grown in, and they haven’t aged much yet. Also,” she opened his mouth so we could see. “His teeth are pretty white. Someone’s taken good care of his teeth.”
“How did you guys find him?”
She checked her clipboard. “He was found wandering a park a few towns over. He’s listed as a stray dog. Maybe he ran away from home, got lost, or his family abandoned him. With the economy the way it is these days, a lot of families just can’t afford a dog anymore. Some move away and leave the dog behind, others just dump them onto the streets.” She shook her head and sighed. “We get nearly 60 dogs a week here. Now since we’re a county shelter, we cover a lot of land. But our facilities can’t handle 60 new dogs a week. So most of them have to be put down…”
We all stood silently while the little fella wagged his tail and explored around the pen.
“I’ll leave you two alone with your new friend now. Holler if you need anything.”
We thanked her as she walked off. The little fella sniffed in her direction, then turned to us and licked our fingers.
“He’s warming up to us!” we chuckled. His tongue was ticklish. Then he was off exploring again. What a mighty curious little fella. We watched him silently, smiling every time he wandered over to us. The attendant had given us some chicken-flavored treats, which we used to reward the little fella whenever he came by us.
“What do you think so far?” I asked.
As if on queue, he sealed the deal for himself. He went up to Mia and placed his head on her lap. She melted. “Awww I love him!”
I smiled. “Me too.”
“What do you want to name him?”
“How about… Mocha?”
She smiled. “That’s cute.” She reached down and scratched his chin. “Hi Mocha!” He looked back. “Hi Mocha,” she said again. He licked her fingers.
Looks like the right dog just came along. Hi Mocha!
