A walk with Chalupa
He was not an ideal German Shepherd Dog. When he was three years old, an artificial hip was implanted to address his severe dysplasia. Not long after, he grew blind in his right eye from unexplained retinal detachment and cataract formation. He trembled and hid from the deep rumble of thunder and the sharp report of gunfire. Despite these failings, to me, he was an exceptional dog. He died after a slow decline in health, as old dogs are wont to do. And while the pain of losing him was acute, a thousand memories of him and his life well-lived always warm my heart.
He came to us through shepherd rescue at about 10 months of age – tall and skinny. He had been a stray. When we first met him at his foster home, he correctly deduced that my wife was the key to his situation. Within seconds of her sitting down, he slyly climbed up with front legs across her lap while giving a liberal dose of kisses. He stole her heart and, after considering several other dogs up for adoption, there was no doubt that he was our favorite. We named him Chalupa and this amused those who met him.
Chalupa grew to be a 95-pound classic black and red shepherd. During his prime, his athletic trim and graceful gait were stunning. When we ventured into public, he drew many an accolade from those around us. “What a gorgeous dog” was the most frequent compliment. “I sure can see why the police like to use these dogs” once quipped an admiring 7-year-old boy. One evening, a coworker and her husband, the proud owners of three Basset Hounds, came to our home for a dinner party. Upon seeing Chalupa for the first time, the husband exclaimed “Now that’s a dog!” On two occasions, a passing car stopped and the driver emerged to inquire about stud services. All this was taken in stride by Chalupa, who accepted compliments with typical shepherd indifference or acknowledged a pat on the head with no more than a brief wag of his tail.
Be it enough that his physical beauty enchanted many, but it only hinted at the essence of his character. Aside from his phobia to certain noises, he was a bold dog. He feared no one. He calmly approached strangers, both human and animal, to meet and scrutinize. Should another dog snap at him, he would not retreat, answering any aggression with apposite force. At home, our safety was never in question as he was a vigilant guardian. He appropriately barked at intruders, ceasing when his family was well notified or the stranger adequately warned. When invited in by family, he accepted these same outsiders with a happy, albeit cautious good nature.
His intimidating size and self-assured attitude disguised Chalupa’s profound sensitivity and kindness, qualities that were made most evident on a singular visit to a busy veterinary emergency clinic. While romping at the dog park, his shepherd sister, Sierra, impaled her paw on a stick and needed minor surgery to clean the wound. As we sat in the waiting room, Chalupa quietly responded to the pats, scratches and even hugs of despondent owners whose beloved pets were there in extremes. For a few hours, his calm demeanor, soft expressions and tender licks seemed a genuine comfort for those so deeply distressed. Back at home, such gentleness was always evident. He took treats with the softest of lips. He carried his toys so carefully that the squeakers were rarely heard. He once caught a small wren trapped in our screened porch and released it unhurt after taking it outside in his mouth. He took great care to avoid stepping on the house cat.
Consistent with this demeanor was his fondness of kids – or should I say that Chalupa cherished children? – the smaller the better. One Halloween afternoon, a 4-year-old neighbor boy dressed from head to foot as a floppy eared dog was walking across the street from us as I trimmed shrubbery in the front yard. Seeing Chalupa, the boy let out a teasing “Woof! Woof!” Chalupa charged hard at him to investigate. “Oh, oh” the boy murmured, frozen in his tracks, no doubt expecting the worst. “Now you’ve done it” chided a nearby older brother. Chalupa slowed to a trot and stopped in front of the youngster, so that each was facing one another at about eye level. After a pause, a sniff and a wag of the tail, he licked the boy once on the nose. He then trotted home, leaving a smiling “dog” wiping his nose with the back of his “paw.” When at the dog park, Chalupa loved herding toddlers with a soft bump of his head or a light poke with his snout.
During winter he especially enjoyed walking beside any small child being pulled on a sled. At a north woods cabin, he anxiously watched a favorite young nephew sit on a pier to dangle his feet in the lake water. Chalupa carefully grabbed him by the back of his jacket collar and dragged a now giggling boy off the pier and away from some perceived danger. In town, a baby stroller could not pass without Chalupa wanting to inspect it and, if permitted by doting mothers, carefully nuzzle into the bedding to find an infant to smell and lick.
Chalupa’s persona was magnified by an uncanny intelligence that included a prodigious vocabulary. He clearly understood the names of all family members as well as preferred toys, treats, destinations and activities. He intently studied people talking, often with head cocked at an angle as he listened, striving to comprehend and eager to show his understanding. Beyond that, he had his own limited verbal expressions, my favorite being the statement “let’s go.” The “let’s” was a single bark of proper brevity and the “go” was emphasized with a deep-throated, prolonged “o” made by rounded lips. True, the enunciation was somewhat lacking, but what amazed me was the context in which he said it. “Let’s gooo” when eager for a walk, “let’s goooo” when tired of visiting my mother and impatient to return home, and on one occasion a resounding “let’s gooooo” when unsuccessfully escaping the badgering of an obnoxious puppy we were thinking of adopting. Chalupa vocalized a “let’s go” in the most appropriate of circumstances.
The skeptic might dismiss the intent of his “talking” as a mere quirk of behavior. However, Chalupa was not disposed to impulsive action, as he demonstrated on our daily walk. For over ten years, every morning our small pack followed one of two routes with Chalupa in the lead, deciding the course to be taken. Without fail, he alternated the route each day. (At least that is my impression as there are mornings I could not remember which direction was taken last.) While his canine sister always seemed eager to pursue a path leading into the scent-laden wind or where the last squirrel was spotted, Chalupa kept to his strategy, remaining faithful to some enigmatic mandate reflecting his even and considered temperament.
Perhaps most endearing was his cheerfulness and humor. When delighted he had a distinctive “head wag.” He displayed an unmistakable smile and loved to joke around. He took great pleasure in hiding favorite house guests’ shoes, thereby delaying departures. His eyes twinkled when questioned as to the location of the missing footwear. For a special and lucky few, he “groomed” their forearm or thigh for several seconds, gently nibbling with his small front teeth. He then flashed a mischievous eye and grinned broadly when he ended the session with a stinging nip that made the recipient jump, often leaving a small hickey to remember him by. When more flirtatious, he opted to prance about with various garments in mouth or on head. He regularly frisked with his sister and his cat to the delight of all. He loved to chase rabbit and squirrel, looking a little astonished when he caught one, only to let it go. He took a skunking with humor intact, reveling in his multiple tomato juice and peroxide bathes.
My intention is not to place Chalupa on a pedestal, as if he were a superior shepherd. Certainly many dogs are better bred and more accomplished than he. But on his merits, he was as perfect as any dog could be. He was beautiful and graceful, smart and affectionate, loyal and he had an irrepressible humor. He loved everyone in our home.
In a complex, often frustrating world, people are fortunate to be blessed with gifts that help to sustain their souls. For some it is a special appreciation of music or art. For some it is their work or a beloved hobby. For some it is their children. For some it is their faith. For me, one such gift was a dog named Chalupa.
