All Our Children Meow and Woof: Keeping Up with the Jojo's

All Our Children Meow and Woof

I created this blog to sort through my emotions as Finnegan, a great Irish Wolfhound, fought bone cancer for nearly 26 months. Fortunately, his battle subsided for many months and during the course of the 26 months, I shared stories about his feline siblings. On August 8, 2008, Finny passed on in my husband's and my arms. He fought the good fight and he will always have a special place in my heart. *If you have a question, please write me at finnegandog at gmail dot com.*

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Keeping Up with the Jojo's

After really cold weather, snow, and Mommy working late, we finally took a walk around the block. As usual, I began my walk by storming ahead toward the end of the block, full of energy and determination. Once we arrived at the corner, I found wonderful scents by the fire hydrant and spent my time inhaling the glorious markings of my canine cohorts. I moved along slowly, taking in the sights and smells. We continued down the street and around the corner. Mommy let me take my time. Because this block is quite long, I began to get a little tired and slowed down considerably.

In the beginning, I gallopedgallopedgalloped. At this point it became a: Hop...Hop...Hop.

No worries. We were in no rush. We kept at this pace until we reached the corner. And there he was. A white faced beagle with a white haired man. The beagle lunged forward on his leash. His tail wagged furiously in delight at the sight of me. The man held him back.

"Wow! What kind of dog is he?"

"An Irish Wolfhound."

Mommy told him about my cancer, how I loved other dogs, and how old I was. Since when do we talk about our ages? Rude, Mother! The white haired man told Mommy that the white faced dog was eleven years old. Eleven! The dog had more energy than I had as a puppy. Because the beagle looked faster than me, Mommy let them go ahead so I could lumber along.

"Come on, Jojo!" the white haired man said as he pulled the energetic beast along.

I am sure Mommy expected me to continue my Hop...Hop...Hop... No way. I was not going to look like I couldn't keep up with that ancient beagle. So, what did I do? I took off. I practically dragged Mommy behind me. When the white haired man saw that I was almost behind them, he crossed the street because he was worried with all of Jojo's energy, Jojo would hurt me.

Hurt me? The big majestic Irish Wolfhound? The breed that can take down wolves, wild boar, and Irish elk? The dog who can still give the smack down with just one front leg left?

I don't think so. Even with three legs, I will still be top dog.


Blogger Megan said...

Aaaw Finnegan - you can make an old deerhound go week at the knees. (Or is the the meds?). But I'm a bit wobbly - so no boofing please.

Empress Megan

2:48 PM  
Blogger Nanook The Newfoundland said...

Awwwww...Empress Megan is gorgeous.

Um and so are you of course!

5:15 PM  
Blogger macgoogle said...

That's right Finny - you show that JoJo who's boss!

Love and Licks,
The Also Mighty Texas (and his humble humans).

8:57 PM  

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