BEWARE THE HOPPING CANINE

or, my dog the marsupial

In the above picture, please realize that no, I am not in fact molesting the dog, I am attempting to keep him still for the camera.

Having vindicated myself, let’s begin.

You may remember Mr. Molesley, our new canine addition who had joined us this past fall; a big, silly fur ball of several breeds. It has now been almost three months and this relatively recent canine addition to our life is proving to be a true delight. No chewing on clothes or furniture, no indoor accidents, maybe a bit of a puller on the lead, but he will be attending classes soon. Not to mention he is easily the most gentle dog David and I have ever encountered.

Sounds great, doesn’t it? David and I look pleased as punch, don’t we?

Is anyone thinking, too good to be true?

Well, then it should come as no surprise when I tell you he is as much, if not more of a deranged, uncoordinated squirrel than my previous dog, the insane canine, otherwise known as Singher. Lest you think I am not pleased with the comparison, know that I mean it in only the most glowing of terms. Despite his potentially barren cerebral architecture, we could not be happier with the little (figuratively speaking), canine named after a socially inept, alcoholic butler on Downton Abbey.

Frightening how appropriate that name turned out to be.

I imagine you may think I’m kidding, maybe exaggerating a tad? That he is just a “quirky dog?” Eccentric perhaps?

Let’s see, what’s another word we use for eccentric? Insane!

Still not convinced? Then perhaps a picture really is worth a thousand words. Here is Mr. Molesley sitting on the couch in a position he maintains most every day. To his left, a random Kangaroo.

Now, if you are like me, you may be considering that this dog does not look dissimilar to said kangaroo. While certainly amusing, perhaps even cute, it is still just a bit strange, considering he is supposed to be … a fucking dog! Therefore, not a hopping, boxing, mangy thing with a pouch from a land down under.

You tell me?

Because when I look at Mr. Molesley (the wrinkly thing on the right with the ears bigger than his head), I see a part Lab, part Husky, part Great Dane, and part Australian Cattle Shepard dog, who by all visual accounts, looks like a fucking Kangaroo.

A cute Kangaroo, to be sure.

The vet on the other hand has assured us, loudly and often, that he is just in his “awkward” phase. Oh, that’s a little strange for a three year old dog you may be thinking?

No, not really.

Not when it turns out that said three year old is most likely just this side of one! Oh, the joys of dog rescues with “vague and unreliable histories”. Oh well, whatever and however old this “dog” turns out to be, the hopping, big eared crazy thing has won both of us over.

Even if he is part Kangaroo.

Despite his ears being almost one and half times the size of his head, his penchant for sitting like his legs are fused to his chest, and his mildly vexing habit of prancing, swinging both front feet high in the air every three or so steps, he is in every other way just a normal puppy.

Except for the little vocalization issue.

For our first two months with the dog, David and I wondered, and briefly entertained the idea that he may have a hearing deficit, as Molesley had never barked. Not once. Not a woof, not a grrr, nothing. Then, two months to the day after we brought him home, on a nice fall day during his morning walk, he began to scream. Not bark, not howl, but scream. A blood curdling, full on, someone is tearing off my penis off with their bare hands, scream. Why?

Because he saw another dog and wanted to play, of course.

Evidently, this is what dogs with “a little bit” of Husky blood in them do when they are happy.

Or sad. Or confused. Or scared. Or bored. Or …

You get the picture; any time they need to vocalize, they scream. In every way identical to this.

Shaking my head, it is all I can do not to smile. Because I love that bat shit crazy mutt, even if he is a screaming, big eared weird Kangaroo/dog hybrid!

Tune in next month, for the ongoing tales of Mr. Molesley, the screaming kangaroo.