My New Dog

One of the photos I used to see if anyone nearby knew about this dog.

I was jogging my usual route one afternoon in late November when I came upon a dog.  More accurately, it came upon me.  I was running the long straightaway back to my house, a little over a mile away, when about midway along a 100 yard stretch of thick pines this dog came out in the road in profile and looked at me.

At first, I couldn’t see it clearly since I don’t run with my glasses.  It was a tad blurry but I could make out it was slim with a larger chest, dark, and its tail was not wagging.  I didn’t slow my pace but I became cautious since I had never seen this dog before over the years of running this route.  

The dog didn’t move.  It watched me.  When I got to within 20 – 30 feet of it, the dog took off running down the road away from me.  It ran another 75 yards or so and then came to a complete stop again, watching me.  I continued my steady pace, breathing regularly, wondering.  Once again, within a few yards the dog bolted away, remaining on the road, rarely taking its eyes off me.

Of course, I comparatively live on the very edge of nowhere.  The sun was high on a nice late-autumn afternoon.  There was a little breeze.  It was just me and this dog out there.  I passed the only house on this stretch of the route and headed toward a short, steep hill, the only real uphill, downhill part my route.  At the base of that hill, for the third time, I approached the dog.  This time it didn’t run away.

It wagged its tail.  I slowed down, talking sweetly to it, judging its demeanor based upon my lifetime of dogness.  It was a bit shy, uncertain.  That was good.  It was curious about me but would not let me pet it.  Instead it sniffed the back of my hand, licked it, then leaped like a small greyhound to the other side of the road.

I took off running again.  This time the dog followed me.  There then ensued about a half hour of me trying to get that damn dog to go back to wherever it came from.  By the time I reached my driveway I had finally succeeded driving her away.  She left after I took a large stick and beat the ground hard with it, ordering her in an angry voice to leave.

A few minutes later, the guy who cuts my larger trees came up the driveway with his small crew in his truck.  That dog followed the truck up to the house.  I told the guys that that dog was not mine and if it bothered them too much to run it off.  The dog hung out with the crew as they cut down every tree, occasionally jumping up on one of them and standing there on her hind legs, her tail wagging.  I noticed that she seemed to be playful as I checked of the progress of the crew from time to time.

As the tree guys left, I called Charlie, our English setter, inside.  The truck drove down the driveway and I closed the door and waited for darkness to fall.  It was going to be cold that night and I figured if there was absolutely no activity from my house then the dog might move on to wherever it was going - or came from.  By this time, of course, I thought it was possible someone just abandoned her in those pine woods.  

Later, after Jennifer had gone to bed with Charlie, I went out to check the night sky, as I often do, usually with my Star Chart app on my iPad.  I was checking out the sky when I heard a periodic rustling.  It got closer and I said “Hey!” very directly, as if to command whatever it was to slow down.
It stopped and I heard a strong sigh.  It was her.  The dog was just hanging around the house.  Shivering.  She was a short coat dog so she didn’t have much protection in temperatures around freezing.  I petted her and talked to her.  Her broad flat head just bobbed up and down as she lifted, in turn, all her paws and put them back down again happily.  Fidgeting. 

She was a mutt, like every other dog I’ve ever had, partly pit bull, partly hound of some sort, maybe.  She was just parts of dogs. She was young, acting like a scared puppy.  She shook all over.  She had elongated nipples which revealed she had had puppies not too long ago.  Where were they?  

I talked sweetly to her and told her I’d find who she belonged to.  Then I got her some water which she lapped away at for a moment.  The scoop of dry food I threw into a dusty pan beside her was devoured in an instant.  You could easily see her ribs.  But otherwise, she seemed in perfect condition.  No scratches or pieces of an ear missing or anything.  She was a gorgeous brindle coloration, a streamlined, muscular and toned dog.  Someone had taken care of her, until whatever recently happened in her life.  She had no collar.

I sat on the doorstep, talking to her and observing.  She was licking me more now and her breath smelled of foul demonic possession.  I’ve never smelt dog breath that horrific before.  But the more I talked, the more she sort of danced about.  By now she was letting me pet her and run my hand over her.  She preferred that I rub the top of her head.  So I gave that particular attention.  

No matter how I petted her, however, now and then she would dart under the heavy wooden bench beside the doorsteps, a bit uncertain of herself.  She was telling me something.  I went to the laundry room and found three mat rugs.  I returned and she was crouched under the bench.  I called for her to come out so I could lay down the mats.  They would be warmer than the cold concrete she apparently had been lying on.  

It was strange calling for a dog who had no name.  She didn’t budge.  I couldn’t coax her out no matter what I tried.  This pissed me off a little bit.  I didn’t want this damn dog to follow me anyway.  And here I was on a freezing cold early winter night dealing with it and it was refusing to cooperate.  Grrrrr.  I grabbed her by her coat and slide her from under the bench, her claws trying to dig into the concrete.

Then I layered the three mats and patted them, talking sweetly again to her.  She looked at me and shuffled her paws.  I patted again and she shot under there, shifting down into slow motion as she curled herself upon on the mats.  My hands and nose were cold.  I petted her and told her goodnight.

The next two days were spent trying to find the dog’s owner.  Jennifer put its photo out on a few Facebook sites.  I took photos on my iPad and drove around showing them to every house around where she had come out of the road on me.  I finally found one guy who said he thought it was his neighbor’s dog, who lived behind him.  They weren’t home then but I came back that evening and showed the photos to a bearded guy holding his infant daughter with the local news on the TV.  I scrutinized his face as he observed the image on my iPad.  He had no eye movement nor the least change in expression. 

No one had ever seen this dog.  Facebook turned up negative.  No one reporting a lost dog matching her description either.  I made her sleep outside those two nights.  It warmed up into the 40’s at night and rained so it wasn't terribly cold to leave her out until I found the owner.  She kept acting like she was expecting to go inside.  Whenever we would let Charlie in from a walk, she would hover nearby and start for the door.  But she always backed down immediately when I told her no.  She would timidly cower under the bench if my voice tone was raised even a little bit.  Someone had abused this dog, I thought. 

I was planning to take the dog to the animal shelter the next day.  I didn’t need another dog in my life.  Charlie was on automatic and rarely caused trouble anymore, the smartest dog I have ever trained.  He was an easy pet to have and to take on walks through my woods.  But this new mutt was the sweetest thing in the world.

I her took on a couple of runs with me.  The first one was just to take her back to where she found me and see if she might head off in any particular direction.  She stayed by me the whole time, except for occasional forays out of find some sort of animal excrement to eat.  This dog loved eating shit of all kinds.  It was disgusting.  But she was generally a sweet and well-behaved running buddy.  Plus I noticed that by running her that distance she became less energetic around the house.  Without the run she was wild and chaotic at times.  Too much energy.  I guessed her age at about two.

She was just too much of a sweetheart for me to send her to the pound.  As part pit bull, whatever ended up happening to her would not turn out well.  So, I made a grooming appointment, bought her a doggy bed and let her inside the house.  Charlie was less than pleased.  To begin with he growled and snapped at her.  I scolded him about it and eventually he backed off.  But he plainly wanted nothing to do with that bitch and wanted her to stay away from him.  It was the same way he was with our dog Parks years ago, only the roles were now reversed.

Which was OK with her.  Initially, she hung out with me, upstairs in my study.  She was so relaxed and relieved to be inside.  She slept beside me in bed.  For a few days I had no idea what to call her.  Nothing stood out in my mind except her brindle color.  But "Brindle" seemed too generic.  As we ran together I’d watch her but no name came to mind.  Finally, I googled names for brindle colored dogs.  There were a couple of lists.  Skimming them I locked on to Bravura Kudo.  I didn’t care for the esoteric first name but the second name was cool.  It was unique, easy for a dog to learn.  And it played off the word “kudos” which enjoys an honorific status in our society.

I made a vet appointment for Kudo the day after I named her.  She obviously needed to the spayed and god knows what else.  She was a stray.  She could have anything.  So, of course, it was an unfortunate thing that, on her fourth night with me and two weeks from her vet appointment, Kudo went into heat.  Now I had a bleeding dog wearing diapers in my house.  

She accepted the diapers willingly enough.  She only took them off once, which resulted in several sheets and towels having to be washed immediately the next day.  But the real issue came after I finally took her to the vet.  Kudo could stay in heat for over a month.  I have never dealt with this before with an inside dog.  All my previous pets were outside dogs.  Thank goodness she was now spayed and the bleeding would stop.

Only that's not what happened.  Even though the plumbing was removed, the dog was still discharging due to "hormonal fluctuations," according to the vet.  Since it was important to let her incision have plenty of air, I could no longer diaper her, which complicated my life immeasurably.  She would just have to bleed out however it happened.  I had to clean up little blood droplets all over the house and the it required two bed sheets and towels each night to keep her from bleeding through to the actual bed cover.  It was one of the most annoying pet experiences I have ever known.

Kudo blends in so well with the wintry woods that it is often difficult to spot her even when she's only a few feet away.

But Kudo is sweet and smart.  I haven’t taught her any tricks yet.  I’m letting her tell me what she wants to do during her play time.  Usually, she likes to run like greyhound wide-open through the open spaces on my property; preferably, with me giving chase and growling at her with my arms waving wildly through the air.  She already knows a few things.  She's house broken, which is a huge plus.  She understands “stay” which also makes managing her a lot easier.  She comes when told.  Well, most of the time.  She isn't much of a barker like Charlie, who will yap on forever sometimes.  She prefers to communicate through little whines and playful growls.  I've only heard her bark maybe a half-dozen times.  Even then it is one short bark followed by ear-perked staring and silence.

There are issues, of course.  She’s mostly still a big puppy.  She has destroyed all of Charlie’s toys and requires constant new ones which she can devour.  She pulls on the little strings and pieces of fabric of the ghastly remains, occasionally swallowing them.   She loves to eat grass and sticks.  Kudo has attacked a small tree and tried to rip off one of its branches with her teeth.

She licks everything, almost neurotically and, when roughhousing, she loves to put her teeth on you without biting.  Jennifer has worked on making her stop that troublesome habit.  Though Kudo still tries, it doesn't happen as frequently as in the beginning.  Scratching her chest and tummy usually makes her forget about that.  And she loves to eat all kinds of shit.  That is presently our primary area of contention.  I catch her doing it almost every day.  She gets a strong scolding.  Her breath smells immensely better now though.  She's a work in progress.

So I have a new dog in my life, a new running buddy.  Which is to say my life has changed.  I have rearranged my study to accommodate her.  This triggered a massive purging of items from my study that had been there as long as 20 years.  If nothing else Kudo has inspired me to do some deep cleaning, a good thing overall.  

Kudo is very needy, not a trait I would freely choose in a dog, nor would I select the pit bull part of her.  But I didn't choose her, she chose me.  She loves me, goes crazy every time I come through the door, looks for me when I am gone.  She gets me to play tug of war with her, using whatever pieces of toys that might remain usable.  She tends to lick everything with her slobbery tongue.  She growls at both Jennifer and me in a long extended way that is a strangely grateful habit.  She’ll greet you in the morning like that or tell you its time to go outside like that or just say “hello, I’m glad you kept me" with her friendly growl.  She isn’t overly aggressive, though she definitely tries to get her way and is at times as hyper as a six-month old pup.

You never know how your life may change.  Kudo adopted me when I was just out for a routine run.  She has taught me to be gentler than I usually am with dogs because she has likely been beaten and abused before.  Right after she showed up she decided it was OK to pee on my carport, which she started with my back turned toward her.  As I turned around I instinctively yelled “No!”  

You would have thought I had beaten her with a stick.

She immediately cowered under the bench and would not come out for awhile.  It is too easy to instill fear in her, so harshness is not the way to get her to listen to you.  It requires finesse.  So she is slowly teaching me more about myself, to recognize my harshness and how to express it differently.  

She was left on the edge of nowhere to fend for herself, most likely shortly after weaning pups off her.  What a tragedy for this young mother who is as sweet and, at times, annoying as she can be.  If nothing don’t happen, I’ll have Kudo for many years to come.  I’ll be in my 70’s when she dies.  That’s a strange thought.  This dog seems a bigger part of life now than my previous dogs.  She is my first indoor dog. Nala, my last dog, was not allowed in until late in her life.  

Kudo makes me realize that there isn’t as much of my life left as there was when Nala was around or any of the other dogs I have known.  And that gives me a strange sense of gratitude both for my life and for this young and often unruly, shit-eating dog.  

Kudo has a beautiful brindle coloration.