Juni: Fifteen Months Later…

My husband said Juni, our mixed-breed rescue dog, was the best dog we’ve ever had, and we’ve had some great ones.  I concurred. We based this on the combination of attributes that make her an easy dog to have around. She’s smart but not naughty like some intelligent dogs. She’s affectionate but not overly needy for attention. She likes to be around people, but yet will go off to be by herself. She will generally “go potty” on command. She barks some, but not constantly.

When we first brought her home, she was about a year and a half. We assumed no one had worked with her on basic commands like sit because she sure wasn’t following those commands right away. But one afternoon Tim was in the front yard with Juni. She was behind the big tree in front and he just happened to say “aqui” which means come here in Spanish. She took one look at him and raced across the yard and sat before him. It was enlightening to say the least. He looked up Spanish commands for dogs and by golly she was able to follow most of them. It wasn’t that she wasn’t trained; she wasn’t trained in English.

We believe her to be part Border Collie and German Short-Haired Pointer and who knows what else.  She points and is a hunter. She’s caught moles by leaping into snowbanks on our walks, killed a squirrel or two, brought a severed goose head into the front yard and no, I have no idea where the rest of the goose was and why the head ended up in our backyard. I have to be careful when I walk her because her strong prey instinct kicks in and at times lunges at prey bold enough to run in front of her. We’re working on tamping it down while on a leash.

On the Border Collie side, she lies down when other dogs approach. This could be submissive behavior, but it also could be the herder instinct as well because she waits until they get close then stands. Also, she likes to secure the yard and runs the border of our property, and when excited, she runs around in circles. She wants to herd other dogs but thankfully not children as other herders tend to do. She’s gentle with little ones, lies down as they approach, and relishes their attention.

The worst thing she ever did happened in the first few days after we got her. She found a new  black ink computer cartridge (my fault for storing it low to the ground) to chew on which left a huge puddle of black ink on the carpet in my office. By the way, ink comes out with rubbing alcohol. I Googled it. That big of a stain took a few bottles of alcohol and several days of elbow grease, but it came out. Mostly. She also has dug holes in my flower beds. Nice soft dirt.

So no, Juni’s not perfect, but damn near. She’s a great companion and a real keeper.

 

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How can you resist that face?

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They were real buddies.

 


We Said No More Dogs, But…

fullsizeoutput_e78Here she is. Meet Juni. Five years ago, we had to put down our beloved yellow lab, and we vowed we weren’t going to replace him. It was easier to travel and go about the business of our active retirement years. When one of us was weak, the other reminded the other of all the reasons not to have a dog. But we missed having a dog around, my husband more so than me, I think. My kids and grandkids are all dog people and kept the pressure on us to buy a dog, mostly my daughter. Last summer, she and her family were in town the few days before Fathers Day. She navigated dog rescue sites on the Internet and showed us photos of the dogs needing homes. Of course, their pitiful faces tugged at my heart and nagged at my thoughts. After my daughter and her family had breakfast with us on Fathers Day,  they left for Illinois. When they were gone, my husband said he couldn’t get the Humane Society out of his mind. Weak at the same time, we grabbed a leash and drove over to the St. Paul Humane Society “just to look.” You know how that goes.

Two of the dogs we’d been interested in had already been adopted, but “Joan” an eighteen-month-old border collie mix was still there. She was in the noisier room: dogs lined up, jumping up on their kennel walls, barking like mad. But “Joan” was quietly lying on her mat at the back of the cage and when we crouched in front of her cage, she meekly walked over. We asked about her story: She’d been a stray in Oklahoma and had been spayed four days earlier so she was still recovering. My husband asked to be alone with her in a room. When they brought her in, Joan was sweet and gentle. She rested her head on my thigh, and that was it for me. We filled out the paperwork, paid the money, had her chipped, bought a collar, then took her home with only a bag of food sent with us.

We named her “Juni” after a character in one of my novels as “Joan” didn’t seem quite right for a dog’s name. I sat in the backseat with her and could feel her shaking all the way home. We made a stop at a pet store and filled up the cart with supplies, toys, treats, chews, and a bed. Within a few days we had her to the vet for her exam, then back for kennel cough and a tapeworm.

Juni’s turned out to be one of our best dogs ever. She’s a nice size (55 pounds), and a great mix of intelligence and sweetness. When we first got her, she didn’t seem to know how to sit, come, etc. Shortly after Father’s Day, I left for New York to visit my son and his family and when I returned home, my hubby had her sitting, etc. A few months later, he was with her in the front yard and called to her in Spanish saying “Aqui” (come here).  She looked and came running. Later, he tried abajo (down), sentarse (sit down). She followed the commands.  We were blown away. She understood Spanish! Who knew?

Although Juni has rearranged our lives, she’s filled us with such joy, gets us out for frequent long walks, and now sleeps at the bottom of our bed. (Which none of our other dogs had been allowed to do. Ahem.) Oh, and she doesn’t really shed much.