The Big Dog Blog.

I've mentioned him several times before,  today,
I thought I'd give him time in the spotlight.

The big white dog (it's still Elvis) is a mutt, probably English setter and Walker foxhound.  Though I'm not convinced a great dane didn't wriggle under a fence and insert (yep, intentional) his DNA into the pedigree somewhere.  Elvis (still the big white dog, anyone tired of this shtick yet?) does share a few physical characteristics of the Scooby-Marmaduke breed.  Not that it matters, he's a mutt,  a companion, pet, not a hunter.  He never would have made it as a hunting dog.  In this part of the wastelands he would have been lucky to have be re-homed.   He doesn't have the personality, or temperament or the ability not to be scared shitless gun-shy.  That's okay, he, as well as I are not packing shotguns, traipsing through the woods looking for quail, grouse, or pheasant. 

If you make friends, meaning no sudden movements around him as he gets to know you, drop down to his level and give him a scritch or two behind his ears he'll be your friend for life.  He's about 6 years old and right at 100 pounds of mutt.  He's eager to please and with not as much bias as one may think, probably the smartest 'big' dog I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.  In fact, he is as smart as many much smaller dogs I've known.  If you're a dog person, you'll know what I'm talking about.  Chihuahuas are cunning little buggers, Newfies, ummm; not so much.   When you combine that eagerness to please, and his intelligence he has been an absolute joy to train.  He picks up concepts quickly and remembers them long term without much re-enforcement.

He started life as my niece's dog, but I've always been his alpha, caregiver, trainer and pal.  My niece couldn't settle on one name, Mario, Hank, Rosco and Buddy are a few of the ones she experimented with.  Until I put my foot down, "he ain't nothin but a hound dawg," his name is Elvis.  Although, Huckleberry, Huck for short might not have been a terribly bad choice.  Several years ago I inherited him full time.  That's okay too, he keeps me mostly sane and off the streets.


Is it possible for a dog to have a sense of humor?  If so, he has one that is nearly as obnoxious as is mine.  Two things come to mind,  he will intentionally step on my foot.  He will walk up, look down at my bare foot, and then step on it.  I know I have ugly four-toed feet, but they aren't a monster coming to eat you dude.

His second prank, and prank is the only thing I can call it.  He's done it enough times that it's not a coincidence.  And it is purely self taught.  I don't know that I could teach him to do this one.  He will walk up, lay his head in my lap for a head scratch, nothing unusual about that.  Now it gets weird.  He turns to walk away, stops, looks back at me and launches an air biscuit, wags his tail and trots away.  It appears my dog enjoys farting in my general direction.

As always, thanks.

See you on Monday, peace.