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Buddy and the Rooster

From the SPA

Hope, health, and homes for cats and dogs in need

By Harry Burrus

Buddy is a handsome, large, black Airedoodle—a cross between an Airedale Terrier and a Poodle. He’s a wonderful lad: friendly, playful, alert, bright, and loyal. This is particularly striking given the abuse he experienced in earlier times, once again demonstrating how a dog that was ill-treated responds to kindness and affection.

Each day when I approach Buddy’s casita, he lifts his head, his short metronome tail taking up a lively allegro rhythm which establishes our tempo as we leave the shelter. Straightaway, Buddy sets a brisk pace on the sidewalk. I walk fast so it doesn’t appear he’s pulling me. We soon approach our scenic turnout (small lot with gravel, grass, bushes, and other stuff). Buddy begins sniffing, checking out the lot’s recent history. We hear a strange noise that sounds like a rooster’s crow. I soon see there’s a reason for that. The bushes part and out struts a flamboyant rooster in a colorful “suit of lights.” Buddy lowers his head slightly. I look for hens, thinking perhaps the gallo is in a protective mode. His Chinese red comb and wattles shake as he jiggles his head.

The rooster moves in a half circle with one wing extended down as though it’s a torero performing a veronica. I can hear Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass’s The Lonely Bull.” Buddy follows the movement with his eyes. Snorts. His rear paws kick back, scattering rocks, pebbles, dust, and dirt in true Texas Tornado fashion. The rooster drops both wings, puffs out its chest, and raises its tail feathers, no doubt trying to convey an impression of a larger size. This aggressive behavior doesn’t faze Buddy. He takes two paws forward ,and the rooster hightails it back from whence it came. Buddy, one. Rooster, zero.

We resume our paseo. On the way back, four preteens move towards us, passing a soccer ball back and forth. Buddy loves soccer balls. I sense his excitement. I keep up with him as he lunges to the ball and noses it with a flick of his head to the girl on his left, provoking smiles all around.

When people pass us on the street and nod and grin at Buddy, I refer to him as my caballo pequeño. They laugh. Buddy would do best in a home where he is the only pet and ideally walked twice a day. Three times are okay, too. Buddy comes when he is called, and when I say, “By me,” he sits next to me, demonstrating he can be an apt pupil. Airedoodles have a life expectancy of 10 to 15 years. Buddy has many sunrises in front of him. Perhaps you can share them with him. He’s at the SPA, Los Pinos 7, 152 6124, waiting to meet you.


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