It's been a year.
Literally and figuratively.
Quite literally, it's been just about a year since we brought our youngest dog, Elvis, home with us. Figuratively, that year has had its challenges in more ways than one.
Last year at this time we were knee-deep in navigating the purchase of our property and the beginning stages of building a home. We had just brought a new (BIG) dog into our family. And we would soon experience the first signs that our sweet Lucy dog was sick.
I've written about our Lucy before: She was the first dog Matt and I owned together, and man, did she set the bar high.
Last September was when our girl started to snub her food. Then came the weight loss and chronic GI illnesses. Over the course of several months, thousands in vet bills, and more daily pills than I care to count, we would find that she had something called Inflammatory Bowel Disease. She would have a terrible flare of symptoms and then would recover, only to have another flare. She lost nearly 20lbs over the course of the illness which devastatingly took her from us in February.
So where does our Elvis fit into this story?
Well, we brought Elvis home on July 4, 2023. Nothing like bringing a new dog into your family on the loudest day in America, right?!
We had heard about this one-year-old Slovakian Rough Haired Pointer who was looking for a new home. His previous family wanted him to have a home where he could get out his energy and do what he was made to do: Hunt birds.
The first picture we saw of Elvis showed a goofy, silver dog with a silly beard and blue eyes.
And while we certainly didn't NEED another animal, something about him made us say "yes."
After owning bird dogs for a decade, we figured we knew what to expect in a young sporting breed, but Elvis was a WHOLE other realm of energy. He was tireless.
And the term "velcro dog" couldn't be more appropriate. He quickly became "my dog" and attached himself to my hip. If I so much as thought about standing from my seat or walking to the bathroom, he was next to me.
We learned quickly that when Elvis didn't get exercise, he was a challenge. And the usual game of "fetch" or a run in the field wasn't what he had in mind. While he certainly loves to retrieve, Elvis could easily play fetch for hours without tiring. When you'd try to ignore him, he'd impatiently flick your phone out of your hand with his nose or go pick at the other dogs and cats for amusement. He was stealing the kids' toys left and right and driving us absolutely MAD with the constant barking, nose pokes, and relentless energy.
So I started to bring him on runs with me.
I personally believe that the good Lord leads us to folks or situations when we need them most (even if they might drive us nuts a little...)
And I think Elvis came our way by means of a little divine intervention...
When we went on our first run, I was surprised that a dog with such high energy and little leash experience didn't drag me along or require a whole lot of correction. He just seemed to settle in next to me and enjoy the miles. What started as 2 miles slowly increased. For years since having my babies I had been hoping to get back into running more seriously, but the prospect of logging miles alone or getting out in the winter always held me back and left me inconsistent. But with Elvis, there's not a whole lot of room for inconsistency: Regardless of the weather; regardless of my mood; regardless of the stresses of life, he needed to run. And quite honestly, I needed it too (even when I didn't want it).
With all the "stuff" we had going on, especially the seemingly endless vet appointments for our Lucy and her declining condition, and the constant stressors of making a massive, life-altering investment in a home and property, my anxiety was at a max.
But yet, Elvis still needed to run.
So even on days when it was cold and dreary, when there was wind and snow (my LEAST FAVORITE WEATHER), when it was raining and muddy: I'd lace up my shoes, harness him up, and run with him. On some of my saddest days, we ran. And while I might not have always been eager to start the run (especially when it was 18 degrees out...), I was always grateful for the miles at the end of it.
Since we got Elvis last year, he and I have logged several hundred miles together. If you're a runner, then you know there's a special kinship that develops between running buddies. When he sees me grab my watch and shoes, he knows it's time. Together we've logged runs of up to 10 miles at a time (with no sign of slowing down on his end...).
He still drives me nuts on the regular but I've certainly come to love the big goof and all of his crazy tendencies (even if he does wake me up daily at 5:45AM for breakfast, steal whole meals from the kids, and leave a puddle of water across my kitchen every single time he drinks from his bowl...#BeardedDogProblems).
Happy "Gotcha" month, Elvis! You certainly add some character to the Rebovich family and I'm grateful for you.
