Ode to Tank

The resident in our home who perhaps gets the least respect (depending on the perspective I suppose) is our 3 year-old-this-month weimaraner. He’s energetic all right. And as hyper as they come.

When we purchased him we decided to let him keep his manhood in the hopes he’ll one day be able to earn his keep. The Vegas breeders, John and Dawn O'Brien, told us we could earn about $500 for each successful impregnation. With one successful rendezvous we’d have covered our initial cost.

It was only recently, however, that we learned we’d have to construct a dog run, completely enclosed, and watch the doggy fun to confirm it happened at least twice. Now it’s sounding like more work than we bargained for.

I guess the male dog doesn’t travel; the female comes to him. It’s done that way so the male dog doesn’t bolt weeks later looking for his girlfriend.

I suppose it wouldn’t be too hard to get a dog run constructed…and I’m certain Tank would enjoy the experience…question is, would it calm him down a bit? Probably not. But the puppies would sure be cute!

This whole breeding thing is just one more thing on my already-way-too-long-list of things to do.

But I was thinking tonight about what a great pet Sir Tank Thunderpaw has been and is. Our 3-and-a-half year-old has taken to having him sleep in her room with her. It’s pretty cute how they both curl up in their respective beds each night. The only challenge is when my sister was in town this April she spoiled Tank by letting him sleep on the bed with her. Now, every morning when we open the door to wake up Eliana we find Tank curled up at the foot of her bed. Guess his doggy pillow is pretty much useless.

Tonight the grandparents, cousins, Eliana, Tank and I went to the park to play; and yes, it was 100 degrees at 8:30 p.m. Very hot! We had fun throwing the Kong ball for Tank and watching him run as fast as he can to catch it, then trot back, ball in mouth, with his tongue hanging out.

He has his moments, as we all do, but all-in-all, he’s a pretty good little…well, 70 pound…companion.

When our friend Tracy visited last month she commented on how we needed a security system. I told her we had one called Tank. And that’s the trufus, rufus!

I’m sure if someone tried to hurt Eliana or come in our home Tank wouldn’t be a welcome surprise.

At any rate, despite the hyperactivity, it’s nice to have someone around who always wants to be by your side and under your feet. It’s nice to know you’re loved and needed.

It’s not so nice to frequently have a wet nose rubbed on your calves or hands, but at least Tank's location isn't a secret.

So, for now, this concludes my ode to Tank. We’re glad we’ve got him and we hope we’re able to coexist happily for years to come.

And if you’ve ever considered breaking into our place…first of all, why, since there’s nothing of value to take; and second of all, once you’ve met Tank, I’m sure you’ll reconsider.

Thanks for being part of the family Sir Tank Thunderpaw.