Same Stories Of Their Dogs example essay topic

Life with a Siberian Husky I really had no idea what I was getting into when I decided to get a Siberian Husky for a pet. Don't get me wrong: Iwouldn't trade him for anything and I love him dearly, but this animal has his own plan - his own agenda. The last three years of my life have been an awakening to the downright mischievous nature of these dogs. I've met other Husky owners and they all have the same stories of their dogs running away and possessing the trademark Husky stamina. They also tell of the little idiosyncrasies, such as their dogs 'talking' and the way Huskies know when you " re speaking about them when they are in the room. All of these owners are amazed at the Houdini-like capabilities these dogs have to help them escape any enclosure.

I have a few entertaining stories of my own about my Husky, Khayman. First of all, he is the dog that everyone loves and no one wants to own. I can barely get anyone to watch him for more than ten minutes. It's not that Khayman is a mean animal -- he isn't -- he is just clever. Part of the reason everyone likes him is because of his looks, but mostly he's got a lot of personality. His bandit mask and two different colored eyes (blue and brown) get him attention, pats on the head, dog biscuits at the gas station, and royal treatment whenever anyone finds him on his escapades (which, mind you, have been many).

His first escapades didn't take him far, mostly running down the street a few blocks after bum rushing the door. That routine started at four or five months of age. It rapidly progressed as he grew larger, gained strength, and acquired confidence (read attitude). When I moved to Bend, Khayman was eight months old and starting to really grow up, but also starting to get really clever.

The first night we were in Bend, he found the weak board in the fence, escaped, went up the street to the horses and just sat there - barking at them. In Central Oregon, that kind of behavior gets clever dogs in trouble. So, I picked him up at the dog jail, sans the $250 fine, went home, and fixed ALL the boards in the fence. It was around this time that my dog developed a taste for women's underwear.

This was back in the era of living with my girlfriend so, needless to say, Khayman had found a new way to keep me on my toes. At eight or nine months, a Husky has much energy and thinks he is very cool. Thus, he hears his name shouted in a harsh tone, followed by the word 'NO', quite frequently. There was an instance where he chewed some panties and hid the evidence in his blanket until my girlfriend found them all - worthless and torn. Then he started to actually ingest them, and this was almost the end of Khayman.

He ate an especially good pair that he didn't want to take the heat for, and he got sick. It caused a blockage in his intestine that almost killed him and ended up costing me one thousand dollars of emergency surgery. I should have had them install a zipper in his belly. When Khayman was a year or so old, that's when the real fun began. The underwear scene was old hat by then, so he took to running away.

First, it was on short hikes by the river when he would take off for a couple of hours - sometimes making me late for work. Once, I slept out in a tent in a snowstorm waiting for him to return. I awoke to fresh, jumping dog tracks (Khayman loves the cold and snow) leading to the open canopy of my pick up. The Milk Bone that I had left there was eaten and Khayman had enjoyed a nice nap.

After a few of these types of situations, my Husky stepped it up a notch. I was hiking by Mt. Hood and had camped for the evening and slept until morning with the dog by my side. The crack of dawn brought a few deer near my camp and Khayman gave chase. The next time I saw him was five days later in Wamic, a small town twenty miles away from where I lost him. I know this because I watched my odometer while I was pursuing what I thought to be his tracks.

How I found him is a different story altogether, as he had no tags. Who knows how far Khayman ran in those five days. If I could afford, I'd put a small camera and a GPS on his collar just to see what he does for almost a week, by himself, in the wilderness. As I said, he started off chasing deer, got lost and probably started circling around, then headed downhill out of the Cascades into the flatland's. First he went to the RV camp at Rock creek reservoir. I ran into a guy who told me that there was a sign at the Wamic store that someone had found a Husky.

I drove the 8 or 10 miles to Wamic, found the sign on the board that read, 'FOUND HUSKY MIX, DARK COLLAR LEFT BLUE EYE' and I knew that I had found my dog again. He made it 20 miles through wilderness during hunting season that week. God bless him. The Mt.

Hood story is the most original and best tale of tracking my dog down throughout the wilderness area, but there were others: the South Sister story, the Dillon Falls story, and the story of outsmarting a few of my roommates. Like I said, I wouldn't trade him for any other dog, but I would caution anyone thinking about owning a Husky for the first time. I would also wish them huge piles of patience and luck.