Amos is a Peke, and Amos is a rescue dog. And Amos is now OURS - and we love him to bits. He was found trotting down the road in a dishevelled condition en-route to the freeway whereupon he would have been run over, or grabbed by a member of the (sub-economic) township through which he was travelling and transformed into a mange-ridden township dog.
But he wasn't - he was spotted and taken into care by a member of the local animal welfare (good for them - I wish the animal fancies would put their money and time where their hypocritical mouths are, and devote both to assisting animal rescue in our country-but they don't, of course - it's left to the tireless and underfunded volunteers whose heart is bigger than their wallets but who will never stop in their quest to alleviate animal suffering. I don't know what we'd do without them).
Anyway- although rather grubby and a bit stinky at present - he is in one piece and a wonderful placid boy he is. As soon as his stitches from his neuter operation are removed, he will be bathed and the stinky will be but a distant memory....
Why Amos? Because he sticks like glue to us (Amos is a local brand of adhesives). The fact that we decided to get another dog as a companion for our ageing but sprightly crossbreed dog, is of course, entirely irrelevant to Amos. He, like most Pekes, is a mixture of human, cat and dog. And Amos regards himself as human first and foremost, and dog a very sorry second (or third, perhaps).
Ho no! Not a "dog" at all. Amos is a human, who lies on his back right next to the water dish and enjoys having his tummy rubbed (and caressed by the breeze). The matting round the ears and underarms/legs and around the bum necessitated a shave, and we broadened this to the entire stomach area - for which we are being thanked by his obvious enjoyment of lying around on his back with his legs in the air - fast asleep, of course.
When we arrived, he had an earset like an Alsatian - courtesy of the tennis ball sized mats behind and below each ear. Thank goodness for no.7 skip-tooth blades.....At the end of it, he could flap his ears around like the best of them!
- He rarely barks - there's no point - everything is to his liking, so why complain?
- He chats a bit - mainly to G and never to me. Consists of long loudish vowel sounds, like this : OOEEEAAAAAHH, EEEEEOOAAAAHHAAEEA (get the picture)? You can practice the same effect in front of your bathroom mirror before bed. Fill mouth with potent breath freshener - so. Tilt head back 40 degrees, and just when you feel like you are about to drown, blow melodiously through the back of the throat and up through the enveloping liquid, in loud stentorious tones : AAAAAAAAAOOOGGHHHAAH. Try it in ascending notes to get the full rich effect. Try not to inhale during this process - it might be a little ....shall we say...unfortunate. But Amos has it down to a T.
- He has absolutely no recognition of other dogs. How could he? He's human, after all. Amos would never condescend to be a mere dog. Ugh!
But what of poor old Sparkie, the ageing crossbreed, in whose name Amos ultimately arrived? Have you ever noticed that just when you think your animals are going to react in a particular manner, they always surprise you and do exactly the opposite to what you expect? So it was yesterday with the regal arrival of Amos. "I can't wait to see how they get on together - wheeee!!!"
Yeah - right. Sparkie and Amos exchanged anal greetings (the normal type of dog thing) and then proceeded to ignore each other completely. "That's not a dog" "I don't know you". At the very least I might have expected something like:
"Holy shit. A dog. What the @*ck is a dog doing in my backyard? Who put it here, and when will it be leaving?"
What we got was "Ho hum. a dog. hopefully it will be like the others that sometimes come here for some R&R and then bugger off after a week or so. zzzzzz".
And from Amos' side we got "hmmm - interesting. If in fact anyone is interested in a dog. I'm not. Time to get back inside. Sleep calls"
And of course, like all Pekes, he has to think everything is his idea, before he condescends to pay any attention. Otherwise all entreaties will fall on deaf ears. Like "c'mon Amos - let's go - c'mon c'mon!!" whistle whistle. Which is met by an interested stare from under the mop and the lad then sinks gratefully onto the ground for another 40 winks. Pffffh.
And what do the cats think? Ow! They know a dog when they see one - even one with as regal a bearing and placid exterior as Amos. Scatter unto the four winds! Some of them did indeed scatter, and a few didn't. One of the lads is as laid-back as they come and didn't give a tinker's cuss. A few give him a wide berth for now - just in case. And a couple are feeding on the window sills because they don't want to set foot in case the dreaded hairy monster sets upon them and attacks like a rabid vampire. But they'll get over it - time heals many wounds, and indignities, like bringing another dog into the household.
List of Amos doggie to do's:
- Amos not chase the cats
- Amos not schnapp when they schniff me
- Amos take a bath one of these days
- Amos not eat the kittyfood
He's the model of modern respectability. I suppose we need someone in the household who is.
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