The Miracle that left us full of wonder

This is the story about a red nose Pitbull crossed with a Labrador. We go him when he was just a pup, the attraction was instant. A small little cream bundle with those round puppy eyes, staring into the new faces full of wonder and curiosity. He immediately become a sensation in the house. Since we got him from a church, we decided to call him Miracle.

Over the months he grew, and boy, did his personality grow as well. Food driven, as most pets, he did not hesitate to make an exhibition every time he wanted food. He basically learnt to move on the cue of the fridge, or oven, or pantry door opening. Open the fridge and just wait, without fail, he would come charging in, in total disregard for his welfare, as he would slide off and hit the wall with considerable force, in his haste for whatever opportunity the open fridge would result in for his appetite. His canine hearing senses did not disappoint him, as even the faintest noise of the microwave clicking would alert him, even in the mid hours of the night.

Not only did he like food, but he was a snob about it to the highest level, pickier than a five-year-old. This was proven even further when we tried a dog food budget brand that was on special. Miracle was a creature of habit; he had had the same dog food brand for a while, I assume he got accustomed to the taste, and favored that one in particular. When we filled his bowl with this ‘new’ stuff, he quickly presented himself for lunch. He slowly walked towards the bowl filled with the brown concoction. He wasn’t in his usual rush; he walked in a slow and dignified way (even for a dog) and examined the bowl. To me observing, it actually looked like he was in deep thought, even confusion, as he sniffed this new mixture. He finally made his verdict, alerting me to it, by simply looking me deep in the eyes, with what seemed to be genuine disapproval and then walking off. It would seem even dogs are practitioners of gastronomy. For the whole day until the next, he would not even have a bite of his food. In a self-imposed hunger strike of sorts, he simply ignored the bowl all together, I could almost feel his disdain in the air, almost as if he was saying “what kind of sh** is this, you guys think I don’t have standards just ‘cause I’m a dog?.” Obviously, we couldn’t leave the poor thing starving, so the next day we went and bought his tried and tested brand. He knew what it was, as I scooped his favored brand into the bowl, his bony tail would wag with such ferocity. He was trained to sit as I filled his plate, as soon as I had emptied the tin and gave him the go ahead, he charged into the plate forgetting all his table manners. After a day of not eating, which was like a miracle in itself, since all he wanted to do was eat, he finally got to eat, not compromising his morals and values. That always sticks with me as what I saw him exhibit was something I would have only expected from a human, and he basically did act like one, even preferring human food most of the time, like roast chicken and potato kinda of dog.

Over the months, Miracle had shown himself to be a master escape artist. There was a cat door installed in the back door by the previous owner. Miracle must have thought if it’s good enough for those damn cats, then it’s good enough for me (the irony). He was quite big, so there was no way he would fit in using the conventional method. So, he decided to use his muscular body as a cannon ball and knock the cat door and its frame clean out the window pane, creating a hole big enough in the back door for his body to fit in. Now he had found a way to always free himself, whenever he wanted, and he was going to make full use of his escape route. He ran away so many times, and ran a mock in the neighborhood that my brother decided he had to suffer a consequence for being insubordinate. So, one time as he came back from his escapades, marching down the driveway like an accomplished teen, pawing(knocking) at the door ready to come in and relax. Instead of letting him in my brother told him to go back out and stay there since he didn’t want to listen, effectively kicking him out. Miracle could sense he wasn’t in the good books, and ran off into the streets once more. This was around 6pm.

Around 10pm, I was staring out the windows looking out into the street, and what I saw had me laughing out loud. There was Miracle, galivanting down the street, with 2 other stray dogs. His companions looked scruffy and unkept, like the dog version of a homeless person. They also looked quite rough and hardened by the street (I can tell you that I stood there contemplating on what life they had led.) The interesting thing was that Miracle was the leader of the pack, boldly marching ahead of the others, leading them to whatever conquest they had in mind, he was also the smallest, but that didn’t seem to deter him. I remember having this feeling of pride, like my little baby can look after himself in the big bad world, and hold his own, matter fact he was a leader, and an influencer. Not having kids of my own, I feel like that’s the closest thing I’ve experienced to parental pride. I didn’t even bother calling him back, I just let him have fun with his new found accomplices. Around 3am I hear something trying to jump into my open window. I immediately get up to go check, and its Miracle, looking dirty and tired, trying to pull the classic ‘jump back through the window’ after a night out. I go open the front door, and he races in and just goes to his little corner where his bed was, and literally turns off. Before he closed his eyes, he looked at me, and I could see he had a hell of a day. Miracle, my naughty teenager dog.

There was also this other time when we bought him a cool little puffer jacket (dog edition), and he looked so cool in it, we usually left it on. One day he ran off again (this was a usual with him), when he came back, his jacket was gone. Now, due to the dog anatomy there’s really no way of him being able to get it off by himself, so someone (a human) rid him of his property. He was basically a victim of day-light robbery, and he didn’t even seem to realize it. I was like how the hell do you let a stranger take your jacket? Maybe he wasn’t as street smart as I thought. But then again, he was a very friendly dog, so like some people, it could be easy to take advantage at times.

There’s so many other things Miracle would get up. It was clear he was the defiant cheeky type. His personality was full of funny things you’d expect from a human, but none the less, Miracle delivered. He was affectionate and playful, always got the admiration of others for his beauty and wit. There’s no doubt in mind, that when left alone, he led a life fully his own, and I still wonder what else he got up to in privacy. Maybe he even had a girlfriend somewhere, or even another family, who knows? Would have definitely loved to put a go-pro on him, and see the rest of his life unfold.