Rocky finds a home

With some help from Craigslist, widely and rightfully regarded as an Internet sewer but not devoid of utility (I’ve found jobs, laptops and other niceties there despite the profligate scamming and spamming on every sublist), Rocky the Boxer mix now has a home.

I got a message last night from a woman who is a recent transplant to the Orlando area from North Carolina and has been looking into adopting just this kind of dog for some time, largely for basic companionship and a sense of security (Boxers aren’t aggressive in general, but they are fiercely loyal and too rippling with muscle for most sane would-be assailants to consider messing with). I called her today and we were off for a 20-mile ride in the car — I could tell it was one of the few times Rocky has been in an automobile because he kept looking out the back window and seemed unduly enthralled in general.

Once we met Amanda, it was obvious that we were relinquishing Rocky into capable and caring hands, which was the best that we could ask for. Of course I’m sad to see him go and it really does seem as if I spent far more than three and a half days with him; on returning here, I was immediately aware of having quickly adopted certain habits, like keeping a few key doors closed and placing things like my phone and wallet out of low reach. I even miss the little guy’s smell. But given the limitations of my current situation, I can only be happy that I crossed paths with Rocky — who gets to keep his name, for what that’s worth — and was able to be part of shepherding a wonderful animal in need into a mutually beneficial situation. It would be selfish to go any further than that, and although a handful in ways, he has made the past batch of days very special.

Rocky’s road

I’m still not sure what’s going to happen to Rocky. Earlier today I was fairly certain he might be gone by nightfall in the form of an Animal Control paddy-wagon, but they didn’t come for him today and upon reconsideration we’ll take him someplace ourselves even if AC does show up on Tuesday. It is possible that he will wind up in the care of the Central Florida SPCA, assuming we can skate on a couple of their requirements. I also posted this, and while there are no takers as of 9:30 EDT, I did get some good advice about what shelters to bring him and what ones to avoid.

There is some chance that I will be able to keep Rocky myself, but it may take a few days to clarify this. He now knows how to sit, at least for treats, which is pretty cool since he came into my life full of love and knowing no commands at all. He does seem to be housebroken. He loves to be around people — his whining when he has to be behind a closed door without me because of the cats is heartbreaking — and enjoys jogging and eating grass. He’s handsome, sweet, not neutered, has great teeth, eats with surprising delicacy, and by Christ if this isn’t starting to read like the profile of a demented person.

So, nothing new to report, really, so in lieu of information here are some more photos.

He’s Rocky, for now

On Friday afternoon, I and my training partner set off for a run. I say “partner” in the sense that we start our runs at the same time but, per her preference, do not actually run together much of the time. And I say “training” as though the ambitious limping I do for about an hour at a pop these days represents anything greater than a rehearsal for the even more ugly limping I’ll be lucky to do as I skate further into my fifth decade.

Anyway, I set out toward the east on this trail while my partner-of-sorts headed west, each of us planning to do 30 minutes out and 30 back. I turned around a little early out of boredom, and as I drew within a half-mile of the starting point a young-looking dog ambled hesitantly out of a nearby thicket and started toward me. I immediately pegged him as homeless, and not just because we were near the equivalent of this city’s ‘hood. He was thin (but not slat-sided), not neutered, collarless, and trusting in that “someone who looked kind of like that gave me a bite to eat recently” way. So I switched off my MP3 player, which had been playing “Rocky Mountain Way” by Joe Walsh, and greeted him formally. Continue reading “He’s Rocky, for now”