Siberian Huskies China and Happy go Malling

I keep myself stress free by going to the mall. After a good mug of coffee, I just walk aimlessly around, meet friends, make new ones, browse over bric-a-bracs and buy a few foodstuffs and other things. .

Sometimes I see a sight difficult to ignore - like these two beautiful Siberian Huskies.

On the left is 2-yr old China. She was imported by the owner from Thailand. The other is Happy, 3 yrs old and bred locally here in Cebu, Philippines.

Aren’t they adorable?

Where did Siberian Huskies come from?

China and Happy are descendants of a dog bred by the Chukchi tribe, an indigenous people inhabiting the Chukchi Peninsula and the shores of the Chukchi and Bering Sea regions of the Arctic Ocean.

When climate conditions changed, it forced the semi-nomadic Chukchi to expand their hunting grounds. This need prompted them to develop a breed of dog that can pull sleds at great distances, at moderate speed, carrying a light load in low temperatures, with minimum expenditure of energy.

Around 1900, the Americans in Alaska heard of this superior strain of sled dog in Siberia and imported them to Alaska. In 1909, the first team of Siberian Huskies participated in the All Alaskan Sweepstakes Race. No account of the results of that race was written but by 1910, another team, driven by John “Iron Man” Johnson, won this grueling 400-mile race. For the next decade after that, Siberian Huskies bred by Leonhard Seppala, captured most of the racing titles in Alaska.

This dog breed also served in the Army’s Arctic Research and Rescue Unit during World War II.

Why keep a Siberian Husky?

The Siberian Husky is outgoing, gentle, intelligent, alert and friendly. They are happy-go-lucky dogs that are fond of their families; keen, social, relaxed and casual. They are good with children and friendly with strangers. Which makes them easy to steal.

They are not watchdogs, hence they whimper and yelp, but hardly bark. They howl a lot, though.

But above all, it is still a working dog – strong, high-endurance sled dog. This inherent characteristic of the dog will not change no matter how much pampering you give it.

Siberian Huskies don’t eat much, which makes your dog food expense rather low. But you may have to spend more on grooming because of their thick coats.

They can be trained, only by people they see stronger minded than they. If the handler does not display strong leadership, they see no point in obeying.

Training takes patience. If the Husky does not have a 100% firm, and consistent confidence in its handler, it will become very mischievous.

It is an excellent jogging companion if the weather is not too hot. A lonely Husky that does not get constant mental and physical exercise can get very destructive.

Because of its amiable but detached and casual character, modern society has found the Siberian Husky an excellent therapy dog.

From pulling sleds to helping sick people get cured? It certainly has come a long way.

The Siberian Husky now:

The AKC (American Kennel Club) officially recognized the Siberian Husky as a breed in 1930. For the past two years, 2011 and 2012, it stood in the 16^th position for the most number of registered breed in the U.S. – up from 24^th in 2007.

They can make wonderful companions for people who know what to expect from these beautiful and intelligent breed and are willing to put the time and energy into them.

Paris and Nicole – my Best Friends

Paris and Nicole are my best female friends. As a widower living alone (except for my housemaid), they keep me company. They never complain and they are always willing to sit by me in my moments of reflection, of my loneliness.

They are my pet Labradors.

Not that I am peculiar. Labradors are the perennial (12 straight years) favorite dog breed in most U.S. cities according to the American Kennel Club.

Before I rattle off why I love my two Labradors, I would like to say off-hand that Paris is a half breed while Nicole is pure chocolate. Of the two, Nicole is the more emphatic, more expressive and the more amiable.

They were both given to me by my doctor son-in-law. These, in turn, were given to him by another doctor who lives in a very plush subdivision in our place. That makes them of better breeding than I.

Why do I love my Labradors?

I love my Labradors, specifically Nicole, because, first, she snores. Yes! Have you ever seen a dog that snores? My Nicole does. And it tickles me pink to listen to her snoring.

They know my mood and I know theirs. They mill around my feet if they sense that I am ok. Paris would nudge at my hand to put it on her head – a thing she likes. Nicole would scratch my arm so I can put it around her shoulders – the thing she likes.

If their mood is off, no matter how much I call them, they wouldn’t budge. Paris would go outside to bask in the sun while Nicole would just look at me with her half-close eyes and a gentle wag on her tail. Otherwise, she will go on sleeping and snoring.

A blogger from Labradors Worlwide wrote that one of the reasons he loves his Labrador is because it doesn’t wag its tail. It wags it entire body.

When I get home from my regular afternoon coffee, or after a long absence from home.  Paris will stand on her hind legs and will be all over me with her yelps of excitement. Nicole, too big and too heavy to do that, will just wag her entire body and rub herself against my legs as she circles around me.

Seldom do we get that kind of welcome from the people we love.

Paris is not so expressive but my entire being is always gripped with extreme emotion each time I see the look in Nicole’s eyes when she wants to have my attention. It’s almost like begging.

We all who love our pet dogs have tons to say about the subjects of our affection. Even as a writer, I can never fully express my reasons why I am so attached to Paris and Nicole.

But I guess that is what love is all about. It is not about words but of feelings, of being connected without having to say anything.

Things to Keep in Mind in Choosing a Dog

If you don’t yet have a pet dog and wants to have one, the easiest way is to get it from a pet shop. The other way is to go to a dog pound or dog shelter and adopt one. In either case, it will solely be based on “love at first sight.”

Generally, “love at first sight” works fine with dogs, but hardly with people;

The third way is to go theoretical. The Internet is full of “how to select a dog breed” sites. They provide proven methods in selecting a right dog breed for you and, unless you answered the checklists erroneously, will guarantee you owning the “dog of your dreams.”

Whatever way you go, keeping the following in mind will give you long term satisfaction with your pet dog:

1.    Keep away from mongrels (dogs with no definable type or breed):

From the time I was five years old, when I had my first dog, until now that I am 65, I have always had a dog, or dogs. Well, maybe there were certain years of hiatus, but generally I always had a pet dog.

Call it mongrel discrimination but my fondest dog memories are with traceable breed – pure or half.

Dogs with traceable breeds have character, of self-confidence as if saying, “I know who or what I am.”

Mongrels came into my life with a deep sense of identity crisis. Immediately they projected the image of “I don’t know who or what I am.”

We simply didn’t connect. Thus I could never remember any except for an orphan I picked from the street as a pup. She grew up so territorially aggressive that she bit anyone who intruded into her territory - even my son. .

I still could remember the trickle of blood from two deep fang wounds on my housemaid’s upper arm. Her only fault was, while picking off clothes from the laundry line, she came too close to the dog while it was having lunch.

She left me with no choice but euthanasia.

2.    Choosing a dog is more difficult than choosing a boyfriend or girlfriend:

I was spared of this because my dogs were given to me. But you may not be as lucky.

Taking in a dog is not just having a pet. At the outset, you must already consider it as taking a friend, a companion. You must be prepared to share with it your space, your time, your finances, your attention.

You have to be ready to bathe it, groom it, take it for a walk and yes, to clean up its mess.

But believe me, the mess they make is nothing compared to the mess a wrong boyfriend or girlfriend makes.

Dogs don’t’ nag, they don’t demand and they don’t’ have mood swings as horrible as people.

They are contented with the space you give it. But when a boyfriend or girlfriend wants to have ”space,” what he/she really means is for you to bug off from their lives.

3.    Be prepared for a long term relationship:

Don’t take a pet dog just for a whim or for a fad or because a boyfriend or girlfriend gave you one. If you have to have one, do so because you love to have one.

Just like taking in a woman or man to be your husband or wife. It must be out of pure love and desire to be one and live together. That’s what long term relationships are made of.

Having a pet dog is kind of “Till do us part,” thing. I and my two Labradors, one, half breed and the other, pure, have been together for almost six years. This is a lot longer than some of the marriages of some women I meet in my social networking site.

I and my dogs are getting old. Very soon death will do us part. When or who goes first, that I don’t know. What I know is that for now, we are hitting it off greatly.

My Life’s (Dog) Story – Negren

I was born two years after WWII (that ancient, huh!). When I was five years old, we came to live in a small rented house, around which were very few neighbors.

We had a single tap in front of the house where my Mom did the laundry and we, together with the community, bathed and fetched water from for home use.

A few yards from our house was a huge rectangular object made of rubber. I did know what it was then, until I grew up and became wiser and surmised it to be rubber lining of a water tank used by the Americans during the war.

Anyway, it served as a good trampoline during weekends. Near it was a huge bomb crater, half filled with water, green with algae, where we cast lines to catch fresh water fish.

The town I lived in (I still do now) was littered with the remnants of war, i.e., rusted 30  and 50 cal machine guns, bomb craters, ruins of our bomb-out church and tank tracks laid out as walkways to avoid the mud during rainy days.

Only dogs were considered pets and to have one was under these conditions:

-         They were not bought. They were given or picked up from the streets while  puppies.

-         A pet license was not required (it is still not now);

-         Dog food was table scraps;

-         Collars, if ever there was one, were roughly twined hemp rope with matching lead.

-      Puppies were leashed but when they grew up, they were set free to roam, even outside of the premises;

-         Vets were unheard of. If there was one, he was for pigs and cows, not dogs.

-         Trait modification was taboo. They were created by God as such and should be left as they are.

Against this backdrop, I, or rather, I and my siblings had our first dog. It was a half breed German Police Dog.

My father was working for the USIS (United States Information Service) then and when his boss was called back to the U.S., he left his dog with my Dad.

My father told us that his boss called it Negren. So we called him that as well.

Oh, he had a beautiful collar, courtesy of his former owner.

He was a wonderful and beautiful dog. His owner trained him to stay indoors except to relieve himself, which he did outdoors. When done, he would lie down on the bottom staircase and licked his paws clean before going back inside.

During meals, he would sit beneath the table and scratched our legs to ask for food. Though it is highly discouraged now, we thought it cool then, so we gave him some.

Every night, if the weather was good and my Dad was not so tired from work, he gave Negren, on a chain leash, a walk. On rainy nights, Negren was left to do his nocturnal wanderings.

It was on one of those evenings, it was rather stormy, that Negren walked alone. Little did we know that it was his last,

The following morning, we found Negren lying on our porch oozing with blood from a very large and deep hack wound on his neck.

To better understand how it could have happened, a little background of our community then is worth telling.

We were very rural then, just came out of the ravages of war. Stories were rife of ghosts, witches and werewolves. A guy walking in the darkness, on a stormy night, could have easily taken Negren for a werewolf and gave him a good slash with his bolo.

My father, though he studied medicine for a few years, was unprepared or unsure of what to do or how to treat Negren. We had ample supplies of tincture of iodine and sulfa diazine – antiseptic and anti-biotic drugs for war wounds, nothing else. If they were good enough for people, my Dad thought, they must be as good for animals.

Beside our home was an abandoned two-storey house. To give him room and space, my Dad thought it better to put Negren there to convalesce from his nasty wound. One early morning, a few days later, we found Negren dead, hanging by his chain.

During the night, he must have felt very lonely, very cold from the heavy rains and suffered much from his wound. Feeling despair, he must have squeezed himself through the balustrades and jumped from the second floor where he dangled from his chain until he died.

We grieved so much over his loss. A pet like Negren was difficult to replace. Knowing my love for dogs, my Dad always made it sure that we had one in the house. But none measured up to Negren so they never made an impression on me and just faded from my memory.