My boy, Lucky

Last night I was petting my big black dog, Lucky, and realizing I don’t do that nearly enough.  He is my protector and as such, doesn’t get the affection that my baby, Ellie, does.  He does his job and takes his meals and treats as payment, not demanding much else.

Lucky came to live with me when Ellie was only six months old and his first job as protector was to keep her from mauling me with all her enthusiastic puppy affection.

But I get ahead of myself.  Lucky is a big black hunk of a dog with white feet and a white chest.  His pedigree (or lack thereof) is a mystery to me.  If I was ever going to pay to have a dog DNA tested to find out what breed he is made of, Lucky is the one.  Primarily to warn other potential owners of such a mix of the fun ahead.

I got Lucky from my nephew (yes, I’m a sucker for taking in homeless pets) and my nephew still maintains that the shelter where he got Lucky told him that the dog’s lineage includes black lab and husky.  The only thing vaguely “husky” about Lucky is his huge curly tail.

I found a picture online of a lab/Bernese mountain dog mix and aside from having larger ears than Lucky, it could have been his twin brother or sister.

Lucky has a large ridge on top of his head.  I tend to think of it as his shark fin while Dan calls him “Zinjanthropus Man” because of it.  Either way, it’s kind of fun to grab it and wiggle his head back and forth gently, while talking in his “voice”.  Kind of like having a 90 pound marionette.

Speaking of Lucky’s voice, my friends and I long ago decided that he falls into the “special” category and has the speech habits of a slow trucker.  And by slow, I don’t mean he drives his rig under the speed limit.

Lucky is very tall and lanky.  Which means he runs quite fast on those long legs and can reach up to the kitchen counter to lick a roasted turkey or eat a loaf of cooling banana bread.  The ability to run fast comes in handy when I discover he has helped himself to food on the counters.  He can make a quick getaway through the doggie door.

So back to Lucky and Ellie’s first meeting.  My mom and my nephew met me at a local dog park to introduce them before we took Lucky to my house.  They got along great at the park.  However Ellie was not as thrilled to find Lucky in our house when we got back home later.

She ran around the dining room table to avoid him.  She barked and growled.  Lucky’s response?  Once he caught her, he pinned her to the ground and covered her completely with his body.  The look of surprise on her face was priceless.

Lucky became her playmate and disciplinarian all rolled into one.  Nowadays, Dan and I say he is our fun spoiler.  Whenever we try to get Ellie to do one of her many tricks, Lucky runs in, bowling anyone in his way over, and starts grabbing Ellie’s legs or head with his mouth.  She growls, he barks, they start wrestling and the fun is over for us.

I love my boy with all my heart.  I couldn’t imagine not hearing him bark in that big, tough dog voice to warn of us people walking by the house, people playing music too loudly in passing cars and other animals in the general vicinity of our block.

He’s the sweetest, furriest bodyguard anyone could ever ask for.


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