Sir Jock (aka Tank)

Sir Jock, previously-known-as-the-Escape-Artist-Tank, is the most expensive dog in history. To get him I had to buy a house.

I had to register him with the United Nations as a Weapon of Mass Suffocation (MASS) due to his ability to convert plums, dog-food, garbage bin contents and poo into sulphur dioxide.

Other than that, and his ability to escape Supermax Prison, also known as our section, he has no vices (except maybe eatig very expensive earphones, my Christmas chocolates and everything else not locked in a safe).

Twelve escapes in one month later, we now have him sussed. He has been escape free for a month. The fact that we keep him in a bag certainly helps.

One of the main benefits of owning a Rescue-dog is that, with the exception of two (very) mad dog-people, I have met very nice dogs and their people through Sir Jock accosting them in the dog-park, on the beach, in the Silver Peaks and on runs next to the Silver Stream and the Taieri. And when they phone me after they found him after an escape. All of them pretty much have the same issues – escapism, everything-eatism, and tons of dog poo that cannot possibly match up with what we feed our dogs. How can more come out than we put in?

Which brings me to the next benefit of owning a Rescue dog: When I got him, I was in shape – blob shape. After two months I am still blob shaped, but a very fit version of it – yesterday Sir Jock, my daughter and I ran 3.2 km in 19 minutes! And we have done 5 km in 34 minutes and even a 10 km, over what felt like two weeks. We have chased down a horse over two kilometres and gave its owner a delicious fright – the fun you can have with a rescue-dog is never-ending!

Then, no more-pork will ever get close to me. Sir Jock and I went tramping in the Silver Peaks and slept under the stars. An evil more-pork flew past, landed in a manuka tree and went: “More-Pork!” Sir Jock growled, stood over me protecting my aching body (looking like a huhu-grub in the sleeping bag or possibly a sausage) and gave one low bark. All pork is his…

So, if you have any doubts about adopting a dog from Dunedin Dog Rescue, let go of your doubts and just do it!

Pieter Burger and  Sir Jock

PS: He also ate one of my very expensive tramping socks. I have not quite forgiven him yet.

 

 

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