DOG-GONE
August 2010
Cherished Companions, Champions of Charm
• • • • • I cannot recall a time in my childhood when we didn’t have a dog. We always had one what we call a bisdak, or a mongrel mutt. It played alongside us kids wherever we went, followed us into the house and to our rooms. The very first dog dog I owned personally was a Spitz hybrid given as a gift by Cherie, a friend. I called him Philip Michael Brandon Roderick, Booboo for short. After Booboo there were others: another Spitz (they were easy to come by and very manageable for busy homeowners), a toy poodle I called Brooke. He was an all black bundle of pure joy and when he snuck around in particularly shadowy corridors it was not easy to define him; until he lolled his tongue out!
I would just begin to say the letter “B” for his name and in a flash, he would be right there beside me, upright sitting, paws poised in waiting; always ready to partake of whatever we were having, chocolates, lechon kawali, cheese and yes, even (courtesy of Gus) beer! Now the peculiar thing about these small poodle dogs is that they literally require constant contact with their owners. I was gone for an unexpectedly long amount of time—unexpected for Brooke, that is—and when I got back, he had apparently died. “Broken heart” was what they said, as he was a healthy little dog, but was reportedly whining and howling in a very wrenching way while I was away.
Here’s Brooke being the central shadowy fluff amongst me, Gus, my sister-in-law Mita and my brother-in-law Eric.
Then there was Sebastian, an intelligent male Dalmatian with a kind heart, and later Belem, his temperamental female counterpart.
Perhaps the dog closest to my heart right now is Claude (named after Jean-Claude Van Damme, who back in the day starred in exciting high-kicking movies!), a Belgian Malinois (pronounced Mah-leen-WAH) who came to our lives at a tender four months old. He was the sweetest, cleverest, most animated creature I ever came across, if not a little dominant… as a puppy when you’d beckon him he’d approach, but step all over your feet as if to say, “there we’re even.”
Belgian Malinois dogs are bright, observant, determined and very active. He was leashed only when we took walks outside of the house or when we did training. I used to reward him with chewy dog biscuits after long hours of obedience training… Malinois tend to want to be top dog always, even with their masters, so in the beginning they tend to be stubborn! In truth though, they are actually simply gauging their masters. I enjoyed wrestling with him until he grew too strong for me.
He opened gates, lifted latches like he knew exactly how to, or jumped over them. He always waited for me on the foyer, anticipating my exit as I would make for the office everyday, and would block the door if I gave him only a few seconds of attention. On days when I hardly paid attention to him, every time I would come home, he would be there waiting for me—blocking the front door, grunting, complaining, flat-out refusing to let me pass (and by this time he was a much bigger dog), until we wrestled and hugged and roughhoused enough for his satisfaction.
In the dead of the night, I would only stick my head out of my bedroom window, and I’d see him look up from the garden as if waiting for me to give an order. Such a remarkably sensitive being. Malinois have a genuine instinct for protection; I remember one time I was calling for the help in a loud voice, as I need assistance with something in the garden; immediately he was galloping towards me, down the stairs, circling me when he got to where I was, sniffing around as if cordoning me off from what I was supposedly shouting at. That day he was diagnosed with heart worms and the vet recommended that he be brought to the dog hospital, I had a long talk with him. I told him to fight it and to be strong again as I did not want him to go to any hospital. And fight he did! It was a remarkable recovery according to the vet!
Over the years, his mane lightened into gray and he started walking with a limp. The other day, I knew he was in a bad way and that night, I couldn’t sleep as he barked weakly almost continuously, in inconsolable pain. In the morning, stroking his cheeks and brows, we both said our goodbyes. I was sobbing, he was teary eyed, his gaze on me. He would have been 14 in November. God made dogs for a reason and it is…to give unquestioning undemanding love. And while it IS true that I cannot live without a dog, and that we are, as early as now, debating on what to get, nothing can replace Claude.
Claude, thank you!
Photos by Gus Palao
