O-T-I-S

Mom & Dad are heading down to TX so I am on pet & home patrol. I told mom she should be flattered that I’m willing to water her lawn considering I don’t even water my own. Yep, after the vacant [expletive] hole duplex across the street we definitely have the second trashiest looking yard. I call it “progressive water conservation”. Others call it “laziness”. Call it what you want, but remember that we do, after all, live in the desert. So while mom & dad are gone I’m in charge of Otis. Otis, Cyrano, and Krash are mom & dad’s residual children. Cyrano and Krash were both mine--Cyrano a senior canine (he turned 15 in March) and Krash a mature 8 for a feline. I don’t know yet if it has occurred to mom & dad but all three of those animals were brought into their house by yours truly. What can I say, I am just a talented animal home finder (otherwise known as ‘family-completer’). I also have a pretty astute sucker radar and it goes off loudly when it comes to my folks and animals. (Where the hell do you think I inherited it from?)

Otis was a rescue from Best Friends on Tour. He had been adopted through the program two years earlier but had since been surrendered by the family and returned back into the adoption pool. I don’t know how you drop your faithful companion and family member off at the shelter and say goodbye forever, but people do it (and worse) every day. I got mom to come down to the Super Adoption last fall while I was volunteering. I’d had my eye on Otis (formerly “Sumo”) since the weekend prior when he was at the Avenues Street Festival with Kip & a couple of other big dogs. I saw him there and knew right away he was special. Mom & and I walked around the adoption for quite a long time. She really liked a 3-legged shepherd that was there, but it was only a year old, in full hyper puppyhood mode despite the missing limb, and thus not a perfect fit for the more relaxed Aalen household.

Otis was a shoe-in. He was so sweet and mellow. It is an unfortunate fact that large dogs and black animals (canine & feline) and adult animals have less chance of being adopted than the small, young, or animals of color. Triple whammy if you’re a large, black senior animal. (Otis is about 8 years old in human years). At the time he weighed about 125 pounds—now he weighs considerably more, though I know they try and keep him on a decent diet. Within a few days of getting him home, mom called to report that he was having trouble breathing and had become violently ill (on their new pergo no less). Turned out he had a nasty case of kennel cough, and mom got him to the vet right away. In addition to the diagnosis he had all of these bizarre symptoms pop up which the vet equated to Cushing’s Disease, a thyroid tumor issue. Otis probably does have some thyroid issues, but once he got over the kennel cough he has not had any of the negative symptoms recur. He has an insatiable appetite, and we have not yet encountered a food he does not like. I’m not kidding. He shares a banana every morning with mom for breakfast, and you should see him snap a piece of sandwich bread out of your hand. Watch the fingers!! He is quite the character, too. He greets mom and dad at the door each day as they come in from work. He is a large, sweet, friendly, outgoing, loving dog. I was recently speaking with mom and dad about it, and although Otis has been with them for less than a year, they don’t really recall or fathom life as it was before he came along.