My dog's story

One Saturday last January, a ski instructor where I teach saw two black bundles of fur abandoned beside a country road a few kilometres away from the ski area. Two young Rottweiler mixed puppies were shivering in the cold. The instructor picked them up and continued his drive to the ski hill where the puppies were greeted by a horde of pet-loving skiers, boarders, and lifties. The puppies were quickly adopted.

I do not generally teach skiing on the weekends so I learned about the puppies on Monday. My reaction was "I'm glad that I wasn't there. I'm sure that I would have loved the puppies and wanted one, even though a Rottweiler mix seems too fierce and big for me." My family's dog had passed away two years earlier and I was adamant that I enjoyed the freedom of not having a pet, of being able to pick up and go to the mountains without booking a kennel or finding a hotel that takes pets.

A week later, I was at home late in the afternoon when I received a call from one of the ski school supervisors, "When are you next coming in?" I answered, "I'll be there in about an hour. I'm coming back to pick up my daughter". The supervisor's response was a cryptic, "Good, I'll see you then."

I arrived at the ski area and in the office was another puppy. This one had also been abandoned but near a school in a rough area. One of the teachers had found him cowering as children threw stones at him. The teacher (who is also a ski instructor) thought of how easily the puppies were adopted the previous week, wrapped this puppy in a jacket, and drove to the ski hill. The puppy looked ragged and gaunt, appearing to have lived on his own for weeks. His coat was greasy to touch, his tail hung down, but he had a beautiful face and expressive sad eyes.

The community of instructors at this particular area seems to have an affinity for abandoned and abused animals. The Snow School Director takes injured race horses, stables them, rehabilitates them and loves them. Another of the instructors has a Husky with piercing blue eyes who was abused as a puppy. It was to him that I turned and asked questions about caring for a special dog. Tyson held him and calmed him and passed the puppy to me. There was no decision. I had known from the moment I walked in, that even though I was the last to hold the pup, he was going to come home with me.

I named him Bode, after a talented but undisciplined ski racer. I have since talked to other skiers who own dogs named after ski racers - Grandi, Killy, Tomba - but my dog's name may be influencing his personality. He is cheerful, affectionate, full of life, powerful, nippy, playful and ADD...and it is not me saying that. The professional trainer that teaches me how to train him has said that. As with people, I try not to think of his past and focus just on how he is today. Today he is calm and obedient. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? but Bode and I will greet the day together.