Be careful what you wish for, even when it comes to picking your dogs!

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again.

Be careful what you wish for.

After we lost our sweet boy Kuda, not a single person on the planet who saw us together would ever argue that he was in fact my boy, close to four years ago I swore off another dog. But life has a funny way of reminding you to not use phrases like; “never again” or “for as long as I live” when it comes to dogs, when you’re a dog person. So within a year I was pining for a new boy, not to replace the one we’d lost, but rather add some youth, spunk and fun back into our pack, which without Kuda’s mischievous attitude, had become just a couple of lumps of skin and fur.

The hunt for a new boy began.

Then we had to decide on what our next boy would be like, we knew we wanted him to be strong, he had to have an excellent instinct to guard, he had to be loving with us, and he had to be a boxer; even though I had said; “I will never get another boxer” we couldn’t bring ourselves to look at any other breeds. Since we’d had such bad luck with all three of our boxers being plagued with illness, one having to be euthanized at six months old, I opted to find a new breeder. I wanted to rule out as many of the obvious, boxer type diseases that I could, and found one I was extremely happy with.

Enter Kohl. Not the boy we picked, but the boy who picked us. He was supposed to be a stud, and show dog. But, we quickly noticed he had eight bottom teeth instead of six, he had two different coloured eyes, and his testicles were shaped more like cones, than circles. Too many negatives to make it worth the work of training him and getting him up to show dog standards. We decided instead to just keep him as a house pet, trained him to be obedient, and figured eventually he would breed. That was also never meant to be. Within a year of having him we discovered his heart condition, taking the breeding off the table. What we were left with was a maniac, who was all muscle, all guard, and loyal to his pack to the point where anything that comes by or near his house, his people, his “brothers” is fair game for an attack.

Let’s just say we got more than we bargained for in every way, but man oh man is this boy SWEET, and loving, and SUCKY. And today he turns three. The hope is that he calms down a little bit…some suggest neutering him to calm him down. For us though, there are pros and cons to this procedure, so for now we’re preferring to manage him with a firm hand, keep him isolated (a bit sad for him that he can’t go to dog parks, or run off leash)but you know what, better safe, than sorry. Which is exactly what I learned first hand with him by playing a vigorous game of tug at the end of the evening.

On Saturday night I realized a few things about playing with Kohl…

  1. it’s not ideal to play with him after consuming any amounts of alcohol, due to fighting with husband. He is too big, too strong, doesn’t understand the english language, and he’s always sober, which means more stable.
  2. if one does decided to play jolly tug with him after a few drinks, here are some things to NOT do. a) do not play on uneven ground b) do not wear flip flops

In the end, my knee and ankle sprain is all on me, I know how strong my boy is, I prayed for him to be exactly like he is. So no hard feelings you giant knucklehead, and Happy Birthday Kohl…here’s to many more years of good health with you, for BOTH of us!