from a 16 year old TRD owner...




 

It takes time to name a dog–especially one with a thousand personalities! In the end we decided on Loki. On the one hand, Loki is often thought of as ‘the god of mischief’, which is definitely true of our dog when the weather is nice! Outside Loki will get into anything and everything he finds, and if it hasn’t been sniffed or pawed at (or sometimes chewed) then he makes a point to do one or all of these immediately. While Loki is a brilliant runner and great friend to have around the house, inside, he’s completely ‘Low key’–yes, pun intended! Unfortunately, no one remembered to tell him that he was dog, which sometimes results in him sitting on an armchair on top of a newspaper, or chewing up books because he thinks that that’s how you read!

‘God of mischief’ and ‘Low key’ though, aren’t enough words to describe everything I love about this dog. He’s funny and smart and more loyal to me than I could ever imagine. When I’m sick he crawls onto the bed and wines until my mother comes to me, if I’m doing chores, he’ll follow me (even though mostly he gets in the way!). I would never trade my dog for the world, and I hope that every dog owner gets to experience what I do every day with Loki!

From her 19 year sister ...

Loki – Norse god of Mischief

Loki has been surprising us since the moment he first arrived on our doorstep. At about thirty pounds and six months old, he was probably the most intelligent, playful and single-minded puppy I had ever encountered. From his first day, though shy, he understood everything and anything we would ask him to do, from not chewing certain rugs to simple sit, come, stay commands. The challenge arose from convincing all thirty pounds of him that that was exactly what he wanted to do at that instant.

Perhaps one of Loki’s most striking characteristics is that he understands people and what’s happening around him so intuitively. His eyes and the expressions he makes seem so human, he doesn’t even need to bark for you to know what he’s thinking. One of Loki’s most amusing habits is the famous look of confusion. If you make a noise that’s high pitched enough, he’ll cock his head to one side and raise a judgmental eyebrow. Needless to say, my sister and I really enjoyed that expression, although anyone in the household probably thought we had lost our minds that first week!

Another personality quirk Loki wouldn’t be himself without is his indoor-outdoor personality complex. When we first got him, we thought maybe he was just exhausted from the trip to the States––he would spend hours being completely silent, passed out in a corner, so it was easy to forget he was still there. You would call out and he’d be sitting right in front of you, but not answer––just look generally in your direction, willing you to find him on your own. He won’t even bark at other dogs over the fence who are yapping uncontrollably at him as he walks past––he just stares at them intimidatingly with all two feet of his being. But if you take him outside, off a leash, he turns into a completely different dog. On our best days, my sister and I have very limited hopes of keeping up with him in the hundred meter sprint along the back of the yard.

Of course, this ability to run effortlessly faster than anyone in the household is of great amusement to Loki. In his most recent feat, he managed to slip between my sister’s legs when she was standing at the door, and before we even realized what had happened, he was at the end of the driveway taking off for the nearest clump of trees. My sister followed him all the way to the woods and by the time my dad and I got there, she was diving left and right in the grass trying to catch him, each time missing him by less than an inch. Then, like a puppy who knew all too well what he was doing, Loki cantered up to the fence where I was standing, smiling and seemingly coming over to turn himself in. I reached for him slowly, preparing to grab his collar in case he tried to get away. But as I leaned in, at the very last second, he shot off back into the woods, after my sister dove to catch him and missed. Again. I couldn’t tell you by what miracle we managed to collect him, but eventually we did. But not until he proved that it was by his own choice (and because we were the ones who fed him) that he was returning to his home.

There is one occasion where Loki’s inner energizer bunny reveals itself indoors––first thing in the morning when everyone else is still getting used to being awake, or not quite there yet. I can remember the first time he came into my room to wake us up. I had accidentally left the door ajar the night before, so he nudged it open and trotted in, head high and prepared to deliver his full morning greeting. I heard some rustling at the foot of my bed as he put his paws up to check that we were in fact there. With that confirmation, I heard his padded footsteps getting quieter, and I assumed he had left. Wrong. Instants later, a huge dip formed at the foot of my bed followed by panting and light paws dancing around my head on my pillow as he tried to decide which part of my face to lick first. When he couldn’t decide between me and my sister, he tactically placed himself across both of our pillows, eyes on the door, and unable to keep still. We didn’t get much more sleep that morning.

Loki is undoubtedly the most compassionate, but trouble-seeking puppy I have ever had. He loves meeting new people (particularly those that bring him food or pet him regularly) and always greets you as though he had thought he’d never see you again (even if only five minutes have passed since you stepped outside to take out the trash). I can’t imagine having made a better choice of a puppy to add to our family.