Today is Dax's 5th birthday. I can't quite believe it -- it seems like just yesterday he was this little ball of fluff and spit who was schmoozing with the pupperazzi that descended on him when I brought him home.
As a puppy, he slept. A lot. I don't think I have yet met a puppy who slept that much. I would take him outside to pee and he'd flop down in the grass and go to sleep. I'd poke him and wake him up and he'd blink at me. He's still a sleepy guy.
Dax came into my life because I wanted a GSD that actually wanted to do schutzhund. As it turned out, while he wanted to do it more than Chey, a combination of events conspired to cause us to stop training and once he started having back problems I realized that it was probably a good thing that we'd stopped when we did.
Although he doesn't really want the position, Dax is currently stuck with being the alpha dog in the dog part of the pack. He bears this burden with Dax-like acceptance. He much preferred it when he was the baby in the house and Chey was the Big Dog. Then we got Cyke and all of a sudden he was the middle child and teaching Cyke how to be a dog. And now Chey's not here to be the Big Dog, and Cyke and Day are The Weasels so he has to make sure that things go well.
Dax worries a lot. He also thinks a lot while he's worrying. The problem with this is that Dax isn't really that much of a brainiac so when he thinks you can smell the rubber burning two states away. This differs from Cyke who also thinks a lot, but when Cyke thinks a lot you start checking to see if he's figured out a way to give himself opposable thumbs so that he can take over the world. Daybreak doesn't really think much or worry.
Dax is my fabulous public dog. He's the one who can go anywhere with me and be civilized in all sorts of places from rest stop parking lots to hotels. He's the one who really worried the state trooper that stopped us for speeding on our day trip up to New Jersey by just picking up his head and sitting up in the car. He's the one who went with me and Liz up to Pittsburgh for Liz's mom's funeral, rode in a funeral procession, and provided much-needed comic relief rolling around upside down on the bed in the hotel room.
Dax is the one that is always tolerant with other dogs, even when they're smaller, barkier, more irritating, or just plain unschooled puppies.
Tonight Dax is getting some goodies in his dinner bowl tonight and I played the 2 hose game with him this afternoon.
As I recount all of Dax's wonderful qualities on his 5th birthday, I have really mixed emotions about this specific day -- it's a day that his brother Donnar didn't have a chance to reach and I hope that if she's reading this, Rachel can forgive me for singing Dax's praises ad nauseum. And maybe even share some of her memories of Donnar.