Odin

On a sunny autumn afternoon, Tung and I headed to the Milpitas Humane Society to donate Argos's leftover canned food and treats so they could be put to good use. I felt I could finally swing by the place without breaking down at the sight of other dogs. The donation drop-off bin was accessible from the outside of the building, but I felt I needed a "petting fix"--having grown up around dogs and owning one most of my life, it felt almost dysfunctional to go a few weeks without running my hands across a warm, furry body. Coincidentially, the Humane Society opened its Community Room that day for an adoption fair. There was a surplus of animals lately, and different rescue organizations specializing in a variety of breeds came to show off adoptees.

"Are you looking to adopt?" a lady sporting a blue Volunteer t-shirt greeted me as soon as I stepped into the room.

"No, not right now," I told her, eyeing all the dogs on leashes. I proceeded to tell her of my recent loss and said I wanted to give it some time before I took a new dog in my life. Northern California Animal Rescue Friends was onsite that day, a rescue org specializing in beagles. Among the group was a foster mom named Lorice Akers, who brought with her an Australian Cattle Dog mix named Dodge.

I met Dodge when he was beached on his back, all four paws up in the air as a volunteer gave him a belly rub. Unlike the other dogs who were fairly vocal or at least mobile, seeking potential adopters' attention, Dodge was content to lay there and be petted. When the volunteer tired of petting him, he'd get up to sit, only to belly-up again as soon as another human approached him, showing interest.

I occupied myself petting a stocky beagle named Archie for my "petting fix." Then, Tung and I went back outside to drop off the donation goods. Out of impulse, we went back in before I called it a day. I got the contact information for Archie's foster mom but soon found out they wouldn't adopt a beagle out to a single-dog household as the breed is highly sociable and tends to get destructive when its only living companions are away for extended periods of time.

Tung, all the meanwhile, was determined not to pet a single dog for fear he'd get suckered in. Because I ended up spending so much time there, he finally caved when Dodge looked at him with his soft brown eyes, beckoning him to come over. We got Lorice's contact information for Dodge as well.

In the week that followed, we found ourselves talking about Dodge. We hadn't planned on adopting before we headed off to our honeymoon, but Tung thought it'd be a good idea to shoot an email to Lorice to check up on him. As it turned out, Dodge was a stray around the Mendocino County, brought to a shelter in Fremont. He stayed there for 2 weeks without finding a home, and it was from there at Lorice and her husband Pat--avid lovers of Australian Cattle Dogs and foster parents for over 15 years--pulled him out before his time ran out at the shelter.

"Let me know if you change your minds," Lorice emailed me after my initial inquiries on Dodge's history. She offered a two-week "sleepover" period where we could evaluate if a dog would be the right fit for our lifestyle and even said she could care for him when we went on our honeymoon. So we did change our minds, and on October 27th after our annual Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk, we went to Lorice's home in Fremont to pick up Dodge.

 He was a bounding ball of energy when we took him home on the first day, very much different from the sedated dog we met who was just interested in belly rubs. He still liked them, sure, but he also leaped up on our furniture, jumped on humans when he got too excited, counter-surfed for food, and sometimes neurotically chased his tail.

We knew that plenty of exercise, determined leadership, and discipline was the best formula to tame energetic and strong-willed Australian Cattle Dogs. Being a mix, Dodge was less dominant-aggressive than his breed tends to be, but during the weeks that followed, he would continue testing us, feeling the boundaries, seeing what he could get away with.

Tung throws the tennis ball for Dodge to play fetch. To give him some more exercise and to foster his breed's natural agility, we set up small obstacles for him to jump over during the game.

Tung makes Dodge politely return, drop the ball, and sit before he gets another round.

Happy dog, appropriately exercised.

 As we got to know the dog and he got to be comfortable with us, it was clear that we had a little challenge on our hands, but a healthy one to get us more motivated to be out of the house and get moving with activities. We changed his name to "Odin" after the Norse God of war, chaos, and victory, but also of poetry and inspiration.

Odin is sweet and attentive; he would follow me around everywhere and often sleep at my feet when I've settled down in certain places in the house. He knew his basics pretty well when he came to us and doesn't spook at normal household noises like the vacuum cleaner, garbage disposal, ice maker, or electric shaving razors, so at one point he must have been cared for in a loving home. He could Sit, Stay, and Come. With us, he has learned to Lay Down, Give It/Leave It (drop the ball in front of us when playing fetch), and is learning Shake Paws and Heel on a leash during his walks. And of course, he is getting well-acquainted with the word "Off" as he is getting better about trying to jump on beds or sofas.

Odin gets weekend trips to the Ed Levin Dog Park near where we live. There, he romps and frolics happily with other dogs in the Large Dog play area, even though he prefers small dogs; in Medocino, he was found wandering with another stray Dachshund who ended up getting adopted before he did.

Odin happily panting and enjoying some time in the shade on the cool grass.

Up to his antics with his new Nylabone chew toy.

It was Tung who spotted Odin and prompted me to adopt him. Clearly, he knows this and is Daddy's Boy.

The day Odin came home, after taking him for a long walk around the neighborhood, letting him explore our house and yard, and playing fetch with him to offset some of his energy, I ended up taking a nap myself after all the excitement. I distinctly remember the moment of waking up. Odin had also settled down and was sleeping away in his new bed, so I didn't see him, but at the point where memory returns after you've waken up from a deep slumber, I remember opening my eyes to the patio in the backyard and seeing a dog's feed and water bowl, items that had been tucked away for some time, but whose absence could still be felt. And suddenly, it seemed that all was as it should be again.