Today is Rumpy’s 9th Gotcha Day.
It was 9 years ago today I was driving down the street in Winchester, Tennessee, and found a pup hanging dangerously close to the road. He had no cares, no tags, and no microchip. The vet estimated he was between 6 and 9 months old.
I looked for his home, but no one claimed him. So he stayed with me, Sage, and Luckydog.
Many days I regretted that decision, like when I twisted my ankle after having stepped in one of the hundreds of holes he dug in the yard. Or after coming home to find another pair of shoes chewed to oblivion. Or while burying yet another bird… or mouse… or feral cat…. he’d killed.
Much has changed in these 9 years. Rumpy has gone from one of the dogs to being an only dog. I can tell he misses having other dogs around. But I’m not in a position to bring another dog into the home.
He doesn’t run near as much, but he will still give a squirrel a run for its’ money. And sometimes he walks with a slight limp. He’s more content lying in the yard, especially now with the crisp, fall air carrying smells from around the neighborhood.
Nine years is old for a big dog. And yes, I know many of you have had large dogs that lived up into their mid-teens. I’m hoping the same for Rumpy. But the average life span for an Alaskan Malamute is 10-12 years.
But enough of that. Today is a day of joy and celebration! My old guy got his favorite wet food for breakfast. I’ll stop at the local dog bakery on my way home for a celebratory birthday cookie, and a squeaky toy.
Happy Gotcha Day, Rumpy! I love you!