My avatar is the real Desmo, aka "DesmoDog". I started using his name as a username late one night when I was registering for a new forum and my typical name was taken. As I sat there pondering what to do, Desmo walked into the room and the rest is history. I've been using it on forums ever since.
That's the short version. Here's the long verison.
We got Desmo (his name was "Lucky" then, I changed it) from a golden retriever rescue group when he was two years old. We came to find he was an anti-retriever though. All of the things retrievers are known for? Not so much for Desmo.
Desmo didn't know how to play. If you threw a tennis ball to him he would literally let it hit his face, watch it roll away, and then look at you like "WTF is wrong with you?" Toss him a treat and he was on it. A ball? No interest.
He retrieved for me twice. When we first got him we were out walking, he was off leash, and I threw a ball. He ran and got it, brought it back, dropped it when I asked him to. Cool! So I threw it again. He raced off after it, got to it, and just kept running. Ran right by it. After that when I'd throw the ball he'd just watch it, then look back at me. "Hey, YOU threw it, YOU go get it!" Through the years I'd tell that story - then once we were out walking with someone and I told it again. I had a ball so I thought I'd demonstrate. I got his attention. Tossed the ball. He raced off, grabbed it, brought it back and dropped it at my feet. Then wandered off. "Dude, enough with that lame story. I know HOW to retrieve, I just choose not to"
He loved kids, especially girls. Adored them. I always thought his first owner must have been a little girl.
He loved animals bigger than him. Ignored smaller animals for the most part, but big animals? He'd walk right over. Horses and BIG dogs were his best friends. Little dogs, cats, squirrels, he had no interest.
He loved to jump. When we first went to see him, he came charging into the room, jumped over a table, and landed on the couch between my wife and I. Open the hatch on my Jeep? He would launch out of it. When going down stairs he would jump when he got near the bottom. I don't think his paws ever touched a bottom stair on the way down.
When he was six years old we unexpectedly brought home an 8 week old retriever pup. He was not amused. The pup would not leave him alone. He finally climbed up on the couch to get away from it. The pup stood there barking at him. He had finally had enough. Desmo did not bark often, but when he did... holy cow. He had a bark that backed people up when they rang the doorbell. Not exaggerating, from behind a closed door he would bark and people would step back off the porch. Anyway... he had enough of the yapping. Time to lay down the law, show this little mongrel who was boss. He voiced his disapproval with a growl/bark that sent the pup scrambling backwards until she ran into the TV stand.
Desmo laid there on the couch looking at her. She was shocked. But... then her eyes got wide and she charged him, barking away. Desmo sat up, gave me yet another "WTF!" look and stayed up against the back of the couch, out of her reach. Sophia (as she came to be known) did not take any guff from him, ever. No care at all that she was outweighed by 60lbs. Oh no you DIDN'T!
Desmo was the typical big brother. He ignored Sophia for the most part, but she followed him around and mimiced what he did. This picture isn't posed, she really did copy his moves and follow his lead.
You would have thought Desmo didn't even like her. Until she got into something... if another dog wanted to get to Sophia, they had to get through Desmo first. HE could pick on her. YOU could NOT. Desmo hated water. When Sophia was still young, she chased a ball into a pond, took a few leaps and then hit a drop off and disappeared underwater. When she surfaced again she was frantic. First time swimming I suppose. Other dogs crowded around to see what the excitment was, blocking her from getting back to shore.
Out of nowhere, Desmo came charging into the water, breaking up the crowd. Sophia made it to shore. Desmo went off to do something else. Task complete, Time to go do whatever it is dogs who don't like water do. I never got him to go into water again.
They became the 'triever twins. A friend used to walk them when my wife and I were at work. The dogs became more well known around the neighborhood than we were. I was walking them around a baseball field and as we were leaving, a young girl yelled "Good bye Sophia!". Sophia turned and looked, tail wagging. The mom and I looked at each other. I have no idea who she or her daughter was and by the looks of things she had no idea why her daughter knew who Sophia was. Neither did I.
Sophia was the trouble maker. Desmo was the well behaved gentleman. Sophia started a lot of scuffles and Desmo would come running to find me to avoid the chaos.
Or so I thought.
One winter morning, I'm sitting on the couch reading the paper. Desmo was napping in front of the TV. Sophia was asleep in front of the fireplace. When Sophia slept she was dead to the world. Such a heavy sleeper. I noticed Desmo look around. Then he slowly got up, and very quietly walked over to Sophia. Desmo stood over her, then slowly raised his paw. Held it up for a moment, then slammed it down on her head, ran back to the TV and laid down before Sophia came to her senses. When she charged him, barking away, he sat back with his innocent look like he had no idea what the commotion was about.
That little... I wondered how many times he had gotten her in trouble. She was ALWAYS blamed for any commotion!
Desmo was is the only dog I've seen take a guy down with one punch. If he was up on his hind legs and you pushed him backwards, he would spring forward and lead with his right paw in a nice little jab, without ever setting his front paws on the ground.
I sold a car to some friends of the family. It was for their daughter, She came over with her dad to pay for it. HOT summer day, dad is in lightweight running shorts. Starts playing with Desmo. Desmo stands back on his hind legs, the guy shoves him back. I see it coming. Desmo springs forward and NAILS the guy with his right paw. Right below the belt. The guy hits the floor. As he's rolling around, the daughter was laughing so hard she was crying. I was trying to keep a straight face because I hadn't been paid yet... Desmo just sat there next to him, wagging his tail and I swear he was smiling. The guy had played with him before and was mumbling something about "I should have known it was coming..."
So yeah, I can ramble on about Desmo. He ended up outliving Sophia which blew my mind. I NEVER thought that would happen. Very close to the end I had a DNA test done on him and found out he was only about 1/4 retriever, then something like 1/8 each chow and german shepard, then a bunch of other breeds. A true mutt. And I mean that in the best of ways, he was a great dog. He was an old soul. He seemed wise somehow.
He made it to just shy of his 17th birthday which for a retriever is not common. Near the end of his run we had him at the vet. The doc checking him out wasn't his normal vet, but she knew him. I asked how? She said "a 16 year old retriever? He's a rock star around here! We all know him."
When the day came that Desmo had to be put down, the vet who had been seeing him for 15 years was doing it. Of course I was sad but I was holding things together pretty well. He had made a good run. Things were not going well. It was time. I think even he understood. He looked calm. And so tired. I was right there with him. We were good. The vet was prepping him... and when she was done with the prep she bent over and kissed him.
I wasn't expecting that. It hit me hard, like someone flipped a switch in me. So much for no tears. It was all very clinical right up to that point, but then the spell was broken.
Here he is near the end. The vest was there because he wasn't so great at gogin up stairs, but would still make the leap on the way down. He'd give it a good effort but could no longer nail the landing. I'd grab the handles and let him jump, then carry him to the bottom and set him down gently. I liked to imagine he thought he was finally learning how to fly but he was one of the smarter dogs we had and I'm sure knew exactly what was happening. He didn't seem to mind in any case.
And that's my novel about Desmo. It might come as a shock but I'll admit it, I kinda liked the big guy.