A transplanted Southern Californian living in North Dakota Idaho, with some insights on life with deaf dogs, a gluten free spouse, and the occasional mischievous garden gnome. Thank you for visiting and I hope you enjoy.

The Tale (or Tail) of Tito

Tito is the eldest of our three deaf dogs, he's 17 years old in July, 2017.  Alycia adopted him from the local pound when she was in college.  She has a soft spot in her heart for the unadoptable dogs and she rationalized that she had to adopt Tito since he'd already been returned to the pound multiple times for being deaf.  Since Tito was "her" dog before we met, I will always consider him the step-dog, a dog to whom I have no blood relationship ties.
As you can see, Tito at one time was actually a cute little puppy and it's entirely possible that early on there was no indication of the complete bastard he would turn out to become.  Along with being a bastard Tito is sneaky, devious, jumpy, neurotic, and afflicted with some manner of Doggy Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, he's constantly licking everything from walls to furniture to the kitchen floor. 

Tito also is empowered with some manner of doggy ESP and knows exactly when I've just fallen asleep, either for an afternoon nap or at night, and lets out a ear piercing bark or two.  You can read about his bedtime routine in Where the Wild Things Sleep, but suffice to say it involves him crawling under the bed directly where my head is and loudly smacking his lips and vociferously exploring his boy-dog parts.  Tito has also caused bodily injury to Shadowfax the Puppy as detailed in Puppy's First Stitches.
As you can tell I have very strong feelings about Tito.  He's almost taken off my hand when I try to get a picture of him (see Dancing with the Devil), has bitten me more than once, caused me to pull a groin muscle when I slipped on the kitchen floor that he had been compulsively licking, and has perpetrated massive consecutive campaigns of voter fraud upon the American public in winning the 2011 and 2012 Deaf Dog of the year contests.
Now the truth is (and you have to promise not to tell anyone) that I actually like Tito.  He may be the object of my verbal abuse, which he can't hear anyways, and I may make fun of his proclivity for brightly colored frilly things (his two favorite dog beds are pink and orange, frilly, and one says "Princess" on it), but he's actually an OK dog.  Yeah he pisses me off when he barks for no reason and wakes me up, but he's actually mellowed with age, and even though it only took 5 or 6 years, he's taking a shining to me, which is nice.  And as I grow older I have come to respect the fact that he can still bring it with a Mean Game of Tug of War with Shadowfax the Puppy.
Tito in his orange frilly bed.  No he doesn't care what you think.

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