Favorite Toy: He doesn't really play with toys. He does like to act silly, though. Sometimes, he'll run around like a puppy.
Favorite Food: He really loves Nilla Wafers. I think he'd eat the whole box, if he could. :0)
Favorite Walk: He'll walk anywhere. He's very gentle and submissive on the leash.
Best Tricks: When he really wants out of his pen, like when he hears a cat yowl or something, he will walk the entire pen across the living room trying to get to the back door.
Arrival Story: I actually found him a year ago, just after Christmas...that's how he got his name...Christmas. He's a beautiful Cinnamon male...no idea how old he is...very gentle. I found him on a busy street, just wandering in and out of traffic...very thin, hungry, dirty. I parked my car, and followed him on foot for several blocks. I remember that it was raining and very cold. He was weary, but looked back at me several times and wagged his tail. So, I kept following him, at a distance...finally, he sat down. He still wouldn't let me get too close, though. He just seemed happy to have company. So, I sat down several feet away from him. And we sat in silence for maybe fifteen minutes, but I had to go to work. So, very reluctantly, I walked away. He followed. I got in my car, and he watched me drive away. At lunch time, a few hours later, I drove back to that place with a little food from my own lunch. He was there, pacing up and down the sidewalk where I had left him. He had made a den underneath some bushes in the mud, and after I parked the car, that's where I found him. This time, he let me approach. I was so scared. He was huge, and I am very small. I had read all the horror stories about this "dangerous" breed... But he needed help. And I knew that no one else would help him. I knew that he would be put down if the city caught him. I knew that most people would run the other way. But I sat down in the mud, just within arm's reach of him and gave him the food that I had. He ate it all. I touched his head. I tried to get him up to follow me, but he was startled at that...so I backed off. I started crying and silently promised him that I would come back for him. I went back to work in my muddy clothes. Several hours later, I went to a drugstore and bought a leash and some more food. I drove back to the place where I had left him. It was dark and so cold. I walked in the dark to the bushes, and he was there, asleep...his back to the traffic. I got on my knees and gently woke him up. He knew me. He wagged his tail. He had waited for me. He trusted me. I gave him more food. I sat with my back to him to show him that I wasn't a threat. I rubbed his head. Then, shaking uncontrollably, I put the leash around his neck. I stood up...and he stood up. And we walked back to my car together. It took over an hour to get him in the car...he was a little scared. But once I did, he curled up (half of his body on the front seat and half on the floor) and fell sound asleep in the warmth and quiet of my car. He slept all the way home. And he's been with me ever since.
Bio: I don't really know his age. He is a large, beautiful, cinnamon colored male Chow. He is so gentle and submissive. He loves with his whole heart. ...
My friend, Dog, just tagged me! Here are seven fun and interesting facts you might not know about me. :)
1. I was so big and fuzzy that some people thought I was a bear! For real!!
2. I was as gentle as a teddy bear.
3. I protected my mom from an out-of-control dog with one large WOOF!!! Our neighbor's friend brought his large shepherd mix over one day, and he was mental! He charged the little chain link fence that separated our yards like a creature out of the movie Quarantine. Mommy was petting me, and I turned, squared my legs, and barked one time, staring him down. The poor thing stopped dead in his tracks, put his tail between his legs, and backed away.
4. Mom keeps a little bit of my fur in a locket, which she keeps near her bed.
5. My first night home, mommy slept with me in my pen.
6. I was the first dog to befriend my sister Hope. She was terrified of other dogs.
7. I hated getting my feet wet! If it rained and there were puddles outside, I would do this silly little dance on my tiptoes to try to get around them.
Christmas died on October 3, 2008 from kidney disease. The vet aged him at ten years old (much older than we had originally thought). He said that Christmas was probably dying when I found him on that cold, winter day. In the short time that he lived with me, he knew all the warmth and love that any dog could ask for. He was my great protector, my guardian angel, and my friend. He will live in my heart forever. He is buried beneath a baby willow tree just outside my bedroom window. Sometimes, in my dreams, he is near to me, waiting to be petted, his tail wagging, his eyes shining. I love you, Christmas. Thank you for coming into my life.
Never give up on a dog. This is how my mom feels in her heart. She knows I love her, and I trust her. I would never hurt her. I would never hurt anyone. I'm a good boy, a gentle boy. I'm a magnificent dog who is a living example of how wonderful dogs of "dangerous breeds" can be. My heart is bigger than the fear that so many people have of me. I am truly a gentle giant. I am loved. And I am home.