Okay, “One Missed Call” is a very creepy movie, yeesh…
Pugs, SpaceDawg is what they usually call “purebred, no papers.” She might very well be AKC registered, but rescue dogs don’t come with documentation! Judging by her size and coloration, she’s a M’loot variety of Malemute, they’re the big honking ones that tend to have the arrows on their faces. She was rescued by a coworker, who had a male that looked so much like Space they could’ve come from the same litter–she said she wanted to breed Space and when I adopted her the coworker was still trying to talk me into it. Yeah, as though I’d breed non-registered pups from a bitch that hadn’t even been shown! Anyway, I think my coworker was misinformed about SpaceDawg, because I think she was spayed young–it’s nearly impossible to see if she has a spay scar but she’s never shown even the slightest sign of heat in seven years so I think she had the operation before my coworker got her. This is consistent, from what I’ve been able to figure her original owner worked for a vet, so aside from crap nutrition (corn based supermarket dog food :rolleyes: ) SpaceDawg got good physical care but her owner had clinical depression and basically just ignored her.
When I got her she knew how to sit and kinda responded to her name (originally Cheyenne, but I changed THAT tout de suite!) but otherwise had no manners whatsoever and apparently had never been walked on a leash–she was totally wild and I developed some huge tricep muscles from holding her back. Malemutes are bred to pull stuff and I’m lucky my arms are still attached, because that girl could and did pull like a freight train! I found out that she’d do anything for a walk, so we bonded over hiking trails. We hiked all around Silver Falls, every big park in Portland, a good many trails in the Bull Run wilderness, Mt St Helens, many beach trails, you name it and that dog and I have walked it! I’m really not joking when I say she and I have hiked hundreds of miles together, I figured up one year that we’d done well over a hundred miles and we had about five years of active hiking before she started to exhibit joint problems a couple years ago. That was when we started her on the glucosamine and then got Widget, who helped her get her form back so she could hike again, but never as far as she did when she was a young’un. She still gets excited when she sees her leash even though she can barely hobble on three legs right now–somehow she thinks she can magically go-for-a-walk if I put on the leash… I’d give anything to be able to take one last hike with her. 
Damn, I’m sorry to be such a monomaniac on the subject but I can’t seem to help it right now–I keep trying to fix my brain on doing something, anything, but I just keep coming back to her. I realize it’s part of the grieving process that I’m working out ahead of time and that it’s normal and all, but do feel free to skip over my maunderings–I really should be putting this into LiveJournal or something.
Ack, I’m going to bed, I’m useless… g’night, y’all!