Wednesday, August 18, 2010

My Goofy Dog

A few years ago, when our last dog passed away, my family started looking for a new furry friend. This search led my mom and sister to the Humane Society, where they discovered a nice, small puppy all curled up in his pen. Then he stood up. He was not, in fact, small, but actually stood nearly at waist height. This dog is a combination of golden retriever and Newfoundland, and is basically looks like a golden retriever on steroids.

My mom and sister got him out of the cage and instantly fell in love with him. Now, at this point, my dad and I were under the assumption that we were not going to get a dog for a while. So we were kind of upset when they called and asked us to come to the Humane Society. All of this changed once we met him and he leaned up on us as we pet him. We went in with no intention of getting a dog yet, and walked out with a big yellow fur ball, who we named Indy.

In an odd turn of events, while we were tracking down shot records for him, we discovered that he had been taken care of by my friend Eric “C” Hanson’s aunt for some time. Indy and his brother had run away from home and arrived at her farm. When the farmer that owned them said he was going to shoot them, she told him to take them to the Humane Society instead. The result of this is that one of my best friends has known my dog longer than I have, and he reminds me of this fact at every opportunity.

As much as we love Indy, he is also full of quirks. For instance, he is deathly afraid of cameras, which means we have to be very sneaky to get a picture of him. Whenever he sees a camera, or even hears one, he runs off to another room and refuses to come out until the cameras have been gone for at least an hour.

Another funny thing about him is that the 4th of July is his personal Armageddon. The smallest pop from a firecracker sends him into a frenzy. He’ll run down into the basement and freak out all over the place, jumping on people and doors, trying to get away from it. After a bit, he’ll cower under my dad’s desk, but another crackle or whistle of fireworks will get him started all over again.

As goofy as he is, Indy is a great dog. His quirks just give him personality. To close, here is a picture of him, but a little modified:

(I just joined Technorati, so I have to post this code this one time: ZUHXWJAK5VG9 )


  1. Great dog. Reminds me of the one I had as a boy.

  2. He might think the camera will steal his soul like some of those tribes people from I can't remember where.