Some Kind of Citizen


Gideon, CGC

My boy passed his Canine Good Citizen test on Monday night! The CGC is an American Kennel Club (AKC) certification. The dog must pass 10 tests in order to earn it. One of them involves completing a heeling pattern on a "loose leash." Asking Gideon to walk on a loose leash is tantamount to asking him to walk on the moon. So, as we were getting out of the car I asked him in plain English if he would consider, just this once, doing as I asked. And voila! Instead of pulling hard enough to win the Iditarod like usual, he actually heeled.

Later this month he starts his third round of obedience classes. Sometime after that I'm planning to have him tested for TDI (Therapy Dogs Inc) certification. Giddy has a great temperament and I think he'd make a wonderful therapy dog.

To appreciate Gideon's accomplishment, you have to know where he came from. In December of 2006 he was found near an animal shelter. He had been left in a crate by the road that runs past the shelter. The shelter people could see that he was quite a mess. He weighed around 38 pounds (an adult male Boxer normally weighs at least 55 pounds). Something was wrong with one of his legs. He had lesions on his head. His teeth were a mess. The shelter called one of our rescue volunteers, and Gideon (then named Reed) was soon whisked off to a foster home. I happened to be at her house the day Gideon arrived and there was something about this skinny dog that kept me thinking about him long after I'd gone home. My Lucy had passed away in November so it was odd to think of finding a new friend so soon. And yet . . .

Assured by my friend that Giddy had a great temperament (which I certainly sensed as well), I transferred Gideon to my home on a sort of "foster to adopt" plan. The next step was to sell P on the deal. I mean, who wouldn't want a skinny, limping dog with no teeth? Meanwhile, we had Gideon neutered and set about the task of putting weight on him. The leg was x-rayed and examined by two different veterinarians and unfortunately, Giddy was not a candidate for surgery. Both bones in his foreleg had been broken and had healed crookedly. If it had been a fresh break, we might have had a shot at it. The teeth, however, were a different story. They needed to be fixed as soon as possible. Dr. B theorized that Gideon had been hit by a car. The impact had snapped his leg and knocked out many of his upper teeth. The teeth had broken at the gum line, leaving exposed nerves and causing a lot of pain. The teeth were pulled in a long, involved surgery. The canine/fang teeth have tremendously long roots, so the surgeon had to drill halfway to my dog's brain to get them out.

Soon, Christmas rolled around and Gideon settled in our home. He was good with our other dog, Karl, and most importantly, he was unfailingly patient with my kid. And I loved him. Eventually P relented and we adopted Giddy on New Year's Day. He was the first dog adopted from the rescue this year.

In a gesture that moved me to tears, my friends from the rescue took up a collection and paid Giddy's adoption fee in memory of Lucy. It was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.

Over the past ten months Gideon has put on lots of weight, settling in the low 60s somewhere. Some tell me he is still too thin, but because of the bum leg I don't want him carrying too much weight. I had hoped to get involved in obedience competitions with him, but the AKC tells me that I can't compete with a "lame dog" (their terminology). The tricky thing with his limp is that it comes and goes. He gets glucosamine and aspirin daily. If he plays too hard, the limp is very pronounced. So for now we just continue taking classes and working towards his TDI certification. Giddy wakes up too early on weekends and he digs in my gardens, but other than that I have no complaints about my sweet Boxer Boy. When I think of all that he has endured, and how he must have had to hold up that broken leg for weeks while it healed . . . well, it just breaks my heart.

While I'm talking about dogs, here is a photo of my current foster boy, Joker. He doesn't have blue eyes - they just came out that way in the photo. I'm disappointed because I haven't had a single inquiry about him. People get kind of weird about white Boxers sometimes. Because a certain percentage of the whites are deaf, the uninformed assume that all whites are deaf or that they suffer from other health problems. Au contraire, Joker hears just fine and he is as healthy as they come. It is a shame that people are passing him by just because he is white. I hate baseless discrimination, I really do.


He's a Joker, he's a smoker, he's a midnight toker . . .

Comments

Mary said…
Ya right, get me all teary eyed... you know I get all emo over doggie stories.... Thank heavens Giddy has a warm loving home now! As far as Joker, I don't get it either, what's a color?? Sam as you know was as awesome as they come!
October 12, 2007 at 11:34 AM
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