As Team Hocholongo heads its way south into the Balkans aka former communist lands, I can’t help but notice all the street, feral, and crazor dogs that roam freely. It makes me sadz to see my fellow comrades (she means street dogs) in bad health with things like mange, hurt legs, poor eyes, etc. Sometimes, my humans will becomes friends with a fellow comrade and talk about helping it out. One times they found a cute boy they named Diego, who was just hanging out next to a river, and gave him a little NOMs because he looked skinny. Then Mommaz said, maybe he can fit in the trailer with ME!!! I was like oh-hellll-naw, there’s only space for Sora BORBA in Rick Shaw.
Sometimes the dogs aren’t nice and are baddies. Daddyz has a habit of greeting wildlife as we pass by saying thingz like “Hello ladies!” to sheep or “what-up MOO MOOs” to cows. Does he not know I have a THING for sheep?!?! He even does this to perros and duhhhhhh, not all dogs are friendly, LIKE ME! So one time in Crustia (Croatia) daddyz sez “hey lil buddies” to a couple dogs on the side of the road and these dogs were NOT happy to see us. They go bat shat ballistic and start chasing us like mad banshees. This started the new game daddyz and mommaz call “AHHHHHHHHHHH.” About 3 or 4 times a day a dog or two or three will come hauling ass from out of nowhere and start trying to bite our bikes, bags, or even just chase the trailer and go after MY food. Daddy screams at them like a donkey, but Mommaz, oh man, she just sounds like a manatee that ate some bad sushi, “AHHHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHH, AHHHhhhhhh”. Every single time she screams at chasing barkos, we all bust into laughter because the sound is h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s.
So where am I going with all this? Well, I don’t share this often, but I was once like my Barkan comrades, a stray dog just trying to live day to day. I went by the street name of Gracie Girl and lived in hood of Tricities, WA, United States, Planet Woof. I bounced around from home to home as a young pup, never really fitting in. At school, I did OK and got mostly “GOOD DOGs”, with an occasional “BAD DOG”. Eventually, I settled in with a foster home, where they had ::gulp:: two sneak attack ninja cats :: gulp:: . It took me more than a month to get “used to” these feline “friends” and I did “ok” with them. By the luck of DOG, I was transferred to Family Dogs New Life (FDNL), in Portland, Oregon (my FAVORITE STATE, sorry Albania) to find my fur-ever home. There I got a second chance on life and was able to socializzzzz with other comrades. We didn’t have kennels at FDNL as we were housed in grouped packs. This was GREAAAAT because I had soooo many friends and could run like an antelope out of control ANYTIME. FDNL was a special place because I got to learn how to make friends with other dogs rather than be alone.
One magical day in 2009, a man named big Dave (hint hint, he’s my DADDDDDYZ now) came to meet me with his Rat Terriorist Maxwell who smelled like a gerbil. Maxwell was cool even though he liked to play bite my paws, chew on my neck, and lick my face dry. I figured I could handle Maxwell’s shenanigans, but big Dave, I wasn’t so sure about. We went on a “test” walk around the block a few times and I showed off my beautiful piercing eyes while pulling the bejesus out of the leash. Big Dave said something about me “responding to corrections while on a leash” and I almost lost my tail laughing, he has NO CLUE about ol Gracie Girl. BLAHAHAHAH. Not 15 minutes later, I found out that Big D and Maxwell talked it over and I was getting my f-u-r-e-v-e-r home. I knew if big Dave was willing to work on this project dog, that he a-ok in my dogbook. He put me in the back of his car with Maxwell where I panted nervously. Of course, I had NO CLUE he was taking me straight to a dog wash to clean me. Butttt I tolerated it because he seemed like a good guy and he didn’t blow dry my fur like the Corgie next to me.
Several years later, I asked Daddyz why he chose me, and he said “when visited FDNL to see you, I had to sign in on a sheet of paper. I noticed that two other people had come after me and were waiting to see “Gracie Girl”. If I passed, it meant we would never be together, so I took a chance. Plus, you’re undeniably gorgeous.“ And with that, this three-year-old Aussie started her grand adventure with Big Dave and Maxwell.
Seeing all the crazor mcCrazor dogs in Europe gotz me thinkin about how lucky of a dog I am. I can’t imagine how hard it is for some of these doggie dogs without a human. I know the problem isn’t just in Europe. In good ole America, we have our doggie problems too. According to the ASPCA, 1.4 million dogs a year are adopted by shelters and rescues (big WOOOF), butttt also 1.2 million dogs aren’t so lucky and head straight to rainbow bridge via euthanasia. This makes me SUPA sad because so many dogs die each year and I really just wanna herd sheep or cats or squirrels or waves with all of them. ::sniffle:: So, my ask for all of you dearest readers, is if you want a new puppy friend, please go to your local shelter. Don’t go to the breeders or shopping mallz and buy a new show dog! They don’t need helps. It’s the comrades in shelters that don’t have much of a chance to survive. They deserve a chance to do zoomies around the yard.
Last month, I got an email from my alma mater, FDNL, saying they need some donations because adoptions are down this summer and there are having financial difficulties. If you’ve got the means, I kindly ask you contribute to them. They do good work, are no kill, and could use the help.
Family Dogs New Life
9101 SE Stanley Ave
Portland, OR 97206 USA
Until next time,
Grace Girl aka Sora