I helped a woman find her dog the other day.
He got away as dogs do sometimes. She was so worried and I couldn’t just walk away.
I know how I would feel if my big clumsy furball escaped.
Griffin is a Husky X with all sorts of other big dogs mixed into the mix. He is lovable, annoying, loud and I cannot imagine life without him.
I got him in 2019 from a rescue up in Prince George and our first few months together were mixed.
I wanted to love him and give him a good home.
He had issues from day one. If accidentally backed into a corner his hackles would go up and he would give a soft growl.
I quickly learned if I sat on the floor he would quickly relax and snuggle up to me.
He would snap at us if we grabbed him by the collar for any reason, something we discovered the day he sat on my three-year-old granddaughter and refused to move.
The vet said the black on his chest from the chain he wore day in and day out would most likely never disappear.
I wondered if the bruises on my arms from him constantly mouthing me whenever he got excited would go away.
I remember sitting on the step at a friend’s house, crying, my arms were so sore and wondering what I had gotten myself into.
Today, we are both mark free.
As I was typing this he wandered up beside me with a big doggy grin on his face. No doubt wondering if I could be conned into giving him another bone.
Nice try dog.
He still has issues and I dare not trust him with male dogs.
And heaven forbid if I am not at the door the moment he wants to come in.
But the love he gives is unconditional.
When my mom passed away last summer he would butt his head up under my hands when I was crying. He’d look at me with his two-toned eyes and not leave me alone until I had no choice but to smile.
The way he bounces when I ask if he wants to go for a walk would easily put a kangaroo to shame.
The quiet moments when he snuggles up and goes to sleep.
The sheer delight on his face when the grandkids come to visit.
(He doesn’t sit on them anymore).
Those long suffering looks he gives me when the cat refuses to leave him alone.
But apparently, it is time to finish off this column - it’s time to go play.
I’m coming Griff.
fiona.grisswell@100milefreepress.net
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