Play keep away
Playing in the snow
I got Rowdy from a friend of a friend who found that he'd been abandoned in the neighbor's trailer for close to the three months that they'd been moved out. They left him to his own with a couple bags of dog food just laid open and a giant water tank in the living room of said trailer. I took him out to my farm with me to try to help him get back on his feet, and make him more appealing for adopting out down the road. He was in bad shape. Afraid of anything that moved toward him, even if it was just a leaf. He was bald from his mid spine down to around his little doggie ankles, I suppose from boredom or anxiety from being left behind and cooped up in such a all place for so long. What was left of his fur was matted and coated in filth, and grime, and more than likely feces and urine. He was very scared and he was a little sick as well. I took him to the washing block and gently let the water run over him for at least 30 minutes before I even grabbed any dog shampoo. I washed him well, and toweled him off, and then took him in to blow dry the rest of the way. I doctored his hotspots and rashes from the chewing, and bought a large kennel to put him for the night since I didn't know how he'd be in the house while I slept. The next day, I took him to the vet, got him up to date on his shots, got him a rabies vaccine and was able to get him on a heartworm preventative, as well as some flea and tick medication. I went to tractor supply afterward, and bought him some actually nutritional food, high in proteins to be able to get him feeling better sooner, and bought him some toys a supportive harness so it'd be easier to leash train him since he was clueless about a leash,a longer more sturdy leash, and a proper dog brush. I took him to back out to the farm, and sat quietly in the floor with him, afraid, in my lap. I brushed him for about an hour and a half. Being gentle and just talking to him while he screamed at me and whined, much like his husky parent. I didn't know then just how full my hands were gonna be. I continued to work with him on a leash, and tried to play with him and his toys as much as I could when I brought him out of his kennel everyday when I got off work for about a week before I started noticing a change in his behavior. He stopped the nervous chewing and began getting more excited about me coming home every day. Living on a farm, away from dreadful things like roads, I decided one day when I was off work to let him off the leash and come walk the back forty acres of my property with me. He was yippy, and could barely contain his excitement at being able to roam freely. He zipped back and forth across the property as I followed as best I could. Any time I almost couldn't make him through the mess of mesquite I have on my property, he'd circle back around and look up at me with his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth and a goofy grin on his face, almost like he was making sure it was okay to keep exploring. We spent most of the day in the pasture that day, just walking and becoming good friends. That evening, as I was laying on the couch watching TV, he came and sat in front of me on the floor. I looked down at him and he hopped up, tail wagging, and dropped his favorite toy at my feet, and began yapping uncontrollably, letting me know he wanted to play. I smiled and shook my head as I looked down at his adorable, goofy face. I laughed out loud and said "calm down, you rowdy boy, I'll take you back outside and play with ya." And we went outside to play fetch until the sun set completely. That night, when it was time to put him in his kennel and turn out the lights, I decided to leave the door open and see how he did with the ability to roam the house. I got in bed and turned off my lamp, and he watched me, head cocked to the side, from his kennel. As soon as I got comfortable, he let out a yip and I felt him land next to my feet. He stepped over my feet and curled up into the bend of my knees. When I woke up the next morning, he was in exactly the same spot, wagging his tail and looking at me, like he'd been waiting for me to wake up. I got up and he ran for the door. I let him out, made my coffee, and went to sit in my porch swing and watch him zig zag all over the yard. Chasing anything that blew across his path. I smiled to myself at his transformation. I still didn't know at this time, what type of dog he was, though I did suspect he was a husky mix from his ice blue eyes and coat type, nor did I know exactly how old he was, so when I went to the vet for his check up later on, I asked the vet to do one of those dog ancestry tests I had read about in an article and asked about how old she thought he was. She said he was around 8 months to a year old at the time. And when his test results came back in, I was told they were a certain high percentage positive that he was an Australian cattle dog and husky, which they then said was also known as an ausky. I thought that'd be good to know when I put him up for adoption, thinking, foolishly, that I was going to actually have the heart to live without him. I never truly picked his name, I just always called him a rowdy boy. As time went on, he and I became inseparable. His fur grew back everywhere, and he was just this solid red husky-looking dog. He helped me with my farm animals, we played together. We took every trip into town together, and every night, he curled up in the same spot in the bend of my knees. He is now a loud mouthed, goofy-grinning, fully-furred, rambunctious, mischievous little turd that makes me laugh daily, keeps me company through out my daily life, loves me unconditionally, and is as protective of me as an overbearing father. Any time I have a date over, he's polite to them, but he'll sit close to me, and his eyes never leave my date. I love him more than anything on this earth. He'll be my partner in crime for the rest of his life. I've had him for a little over a year now, and I couldn't imagine life without him. I am so very happy that I found him, and that he warmed up to me as quickly as he did. My life would be boring if it wasn't for my Rowdy boy! And the funny thing is, I wasn't even a dog person before he came along. To anyone considering adopting an Ausky, I'll tell you this. They are very mischievous, and hard headed when they want to be, but if you train them right, excersize them enough, and love them always, an Ausky is the best dog you will ever EVER have the pleasure of calling your best friend.