TANK’s ancestry comes to light

We have made a critical and shocking discovery about TANK’s lineage. It appears that he is part lion. He is so liony that we are amazed, actually, that we had not realized it before. His coloring, the way he moves his body, those cute too-short ears, the enormous paws, the furrowed brow, the graceful lankiness of his muscular frame — it’s all lion. Just look at this striking comparison.

But before you start running off to hide your children and your groceries, an important distinction: Our lion is a very friendly, teenaged lion. He is no pride leader, our lion. He is no stealthy, ruthless hunter, our lion. He is just a sweet, goofy, lanky teenager of a lion.

And there is even more to the story than this. We believe him to be the reincarnation of a very specific, famous, friendly lion from history: Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz. For example: just like his ancestor, TANK is a big softie who is quite timid. He is scared of water hoses, stairs make him nervous, and the sound of sirens makes him whimper. When the little 15 pound dogs in our neighborhood bark at him from behind their fences, he ducks his head down and tries to cross the street to get farther away from them and their meanness. In fact, here is a photo me and my friends comforting him after the little maltese down the street almost made him cry:

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confessions of a serial drooler

My name is TANK, and I drool. Sometimes I drool a lot, and sometimes I drool a little. And sometimes — rarely — I am even caught not drooling at all. Sometimes I drool while running around. Sometimes I drool while I am in a restful slumber. Sometimes I drool to express how exciting life is.  Sometimes I drool because I am hot. Sometimes I drool to show off my impressive jowls. Sometimes I drool to see how long of a ribbon I can make. Sometimes I drool to show how happy I am to see you. Sometimes I drool to tell you that I would like to eat whatever you are holding. And sometimes, I just drool.

Sometimes when I drool, I leave a little puddle on the ground. Sometimes, I leave streaks. Sometimes when I drool, I smoosh a little bit of it onto my foster mom’s outfit, like a lipstick kiss left on her cheek by her grandma. Sometimes when I drool, I make an avant-garde drippy pattern on the deck, like a Jackson Pollock painting. Sometimes I do a more traditional pattern, like a Monet. Sometimes I keep my drool hanging, in case I need it at a later time. Sometimes I shake my head and leave decorative little ribbons on the wall. Beautiful, classy little ribbons. Singing, dancing little ribbons. Shimmery, happy little ribbons. They’re how I express who I am.

Love,

TANK

On learning a new dog

One of the highlights of fostering, for me, is getting to know a new dog. I love seeing a photo and reading a bio, and then experiencing the anticipation of how the new foster will be in real life. How will s/he fit into our family? What will his/her cutest quirks be? Biggest training challenges? Most surprising characteristics?

With a new dog, I am also always anxious to understand her/his personality so that I can try to convey it photographically and in words. One of my many untested theories is that adoptable dogs with a distinct “personality” have a magical sort of draw to them, making them more attractive to potential adopters. Our first foster, Lollie, was a classic lovable underdog. She was a big sweetheart with a sad past who had a lot of heart, and really wanted to win the world over. And she did. We dubbed her Lollie Wonderdog. Next was Gonzo. Gonzo was a pocket rocket. He was a tiny little ball of mischevious antics. He had tons of energy and didn’t much care if anybody liked him, but with that face and those ears, people just couldn’t resist.  His name became Gonzo Bunny-Ears.

TANK’s persona is still evolving, since we’ve only had him about three days and upon bringing him home, we knew much less about him than his predecessors.  He doesn’t yet have his middle name, which we like to bestow upon our fosters. So far we know that he is a big, goofy, oafish, friendly lug who is absolutely jazzed with life. Other aspects of his personality are coming out, but we are just barely starting to fit together the puzzle. It’s hard to resist, but we’re trying not to rush: the discovery is one of the best parts.

Here’s one piece of the TANK puzzle: in the house, he is an enthusiastic, bouncy youngster who is constantly moving, licking, chewing, running, and jumping. He will learn how to be a good house dog quickly, but at this point he is acting like a typical 60 pound puppy with little training. But outside? Outside he is the calmest dog I’ve ever met. He walks slowly next to me on the leash, almost never gets excited, and occasionally even decides to lay down in the grass to rest and smell the clover. And once he’s down, there is little that will convince him to get back up except his own free will.

New foster: TANK!

Introducing our new foster, TANK!

Have you ever seen such rugged good looks on a dog?

We have only had TANK for 36 hours, but are totally falling for this giant, puppy-like goofball. TANK may have that tough-guy look, but he could hardly be more of a softie! TANK lives for ear scratches, belly rubs, and big hugs. He also loves to give big, slobbery kisses to anybody who shows him a little kindness. He has such a big personality that when we say his name, or think his name, or write his name, we can’t help but use all caps: TANK!

This poor oversized puppy showed up as a stray at a rural animal shelter in South Carolina, where few dogs ever make it out alive. There he sat, patiently, quietly, and worriedly, waiting for somebody to claim him, but nobody ever came. And still. The shelter workers must have seen something really special in this guy’s sweet disposition and devastatingly handsome face, because he wound up being the first pit bull type dog to ever be released from the shelter to a rescue group! TANK is very proud of this great honor, and hopes that he paves the way for many other pit bulls who come from his former turf.

The area he came from is very rural and fairly poor, and we wonder: was TANK loved? Had he lived in a house and had his nails trimmed? Was he bred by bad people for bad purposes, but then failed to live up to their expectations? Has he ever played with a toy before? Slept on a soft bed? Seen the bright lights of a big city?

We wish we knew more about TANK’s history, and are really looking forward to getting to know him. We hope you’ll join us!

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