This is Klaus, my big brown friend.
This is his signature Zen brown dog deep thoughts by Klaus pose.
I love Klaus. He's a big, brown happy-go-lucky guy. With a big dog smile and a big warm heart- always happy to see you on the trail.
But Klaus is really getting old. His coat is changing from brown to yellow. I'm really worried about him. He can't do all the things he loves to do anymore.
That's the only thing I don't like about being a dog. The 7:1 dog rule. Every year, dogs get seven years older. Who made up that stupid rule? Can we please change it?
Big and brown. Size, shape and color
When Klaus' mom Carole adopted him as a puppy at the shelter, the sign said he was good with cats and would grow up to be a medium size brown dog. So they took him home -medium was just right.
But.... turns out, he takes up the entire back seat!! You have to fold down BOTH seats to make him fit! He is Huge. Not even a little bit medium.
Not that size matters. Except when it comes to heart.
Color matters - in a thank God we're not all the same kind of way. All of my friends have color.
Speaking of not being dull... Klaus has a sister - Eloise - she is headstrong. In a good way. She just can't stand being on a leash.
That just could be the new definition of headstrong. I'd call my mom headstrong and she doesn't wear a leash either.
Meanwhile, Klaus is always so Chill.
The friends we make - the crap that happens....
Klaus and I love walking our favorite trail in our home town, Mosier, OR in the Columbia River Gorge. The most amazing place on Earth.
Right next to that spot where, a year and a half ago, the oil train derailed.
Point is, crap happens.
We're on the journey together. The ups and downs. The ride of life. Not every moment is perfect.
I am having surgery this week. They are removing a tumor from my head. I'll be in a cone of shame for several weeks. So, you may not see much of me for a while. I'll do my best to write and tell you how it's going, but mom is a total wreck. Even though she's headstrong.
We had a rough vet year last year, after losing my two old dog bros within months of each other. I'm only 6.5 (45 in dog years) - it's not time for me to fall apart just yet. I was hoping to avoid the vet and old age altogether.
Whatever it is - we face it together.
Thanks for being there.