Punk

“As soon as I saw you, I knew adventure was going to happen” – Winnie the Pooh

I don’t have enough words to describe this dog. It’s funny that this is the hardest “about me” page I have written. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I have too much to say. Punk is my world, as I am his. He is my heart, and I hold his. He is the dog that I never knew that I needed. He has helped me through my darkest times and has stood by my side during some of my proudest moments.

It started with tragedy. In 2010, I lost my heart dog in a freak accident. Troy was only 4 years old. We were at the start of an extremely exciting career together. He took me all over the country, paid for many semesters of college with scholarships that we earned, and he loved me with everything that he had. He was beautiful, powerful, and loyal. When I lost him, I lost part of me.

In an attempt to distract me from what had happened, I started looking for a breeder. I knew that I needed a new companion. I needed something vibrant and happy to take my mind away and occupy my time. I found a breeder in Oregon who had some really nice Border Collies, and I contacted her. As fate would have it, she had a litter due in a few weeks, and there was still room on the wait list. She graciously added me, and the wait began.

A red merle has been my “unicorn” dog for quite some time. When the litter was born, there were 3 boys and 3 girls. 1 Red Merle Male and 1 Red Merle Female. The breeder was very upfront with me and let me know that I would probably not be getting the Red Merle. Long story short, one of the Red Tri boys was chosen for me. Of course, that would be my THIRD Red Tri in a row! Ha!

I spent my days waiting for my weekly photos of the litter. I watched them grow, play, and impatiently waited on the arrival of my new baby. Finally, that cold (early) morning came, and my parents and I drove down to O’Hare to pick up the little tyke. I had chosen the name Pyro or Kale for him. I loved both, and I loved what the names stood for.

When the cargo employee brought the crate out to me, I knew that he wasn’t a Pyro OR a Kale… He was a PUNK! The image of him swaying back and forth in his little green vari kennel will forever be engrained in my brain. The employee made the comment, “He’s so sweet and friendly!”. While I was signing the paperwork, my dad pulled him out of the crate. It was all tail wiggles, kisses, and hugs. He sat quietly on my lap for the entire ride home.

When we arrived home, he (finally) pottied, and we took a nap on the floor together. As a puppy, his favorite game was to go half way under the bed and then wait for you to pull him out by his back legs.

At 9 weeks old, I took him to one of my private lessons with my (then) trainer. He was in her big fenced in yard playing with toys. She instructed me to call him. He ignored me. So, we went and hid behind her barn. He was completed unfazed. He continued to run around her yard and collected all of her toys. When we reappeared, he gave us a quick look and then continued on with his game. Her comment was, “He’s smart, even for a Border Collie.” She was NOT wrong.

The first few months were rough. I struggled to open up to him, and he had his own agenda… PLAY! Punk was (and is) extremely impulsive, and when aroused, he had no value for me. He wanted to GO GO GO! We dropped out of Foundation class due to his inability to focus during classes. We worked hard on impulse control. We worked hard on proper play. We worked hard on our relationship! Punk learned lots of tricks, foundation exercises, obedience skills, and finally AGILITY.

Punk was infected with Lyme disease at the young age of 18 months. He is extremely sound sensitive, but I started noticing him becoming more and more fearful. It was recommended to me to have him tested, and sure enough, he had the disease. Due to the pain that he had, he became fearful. He reacted to pain with fear…

The beginning of our agility career was rough. We didn’t qualify much, and we struggled to “get it together” as a team. He wanted to go fast. Period. He earned the name, “Ricky Bobby”. When he was 2, he injured himself slipping at the end of a run.

Punk’s injury proved to be baffling for many vets. We didn’t get answers until we went to see Dr. Julia Tomlinson in Minnesota. Punk had torn his rectus femoris. He began extensive rehab for almost an entire year which included, crate rest, leash walking, and only his rehab exercises. We worked hard and stuck with our plan. Finally, we were able to start walking for longer periods of time, run in straight lines, and do small ground bars. The first time we were able to do real equipment was extremely emotional. We started the slow journey back to training and competition after close to 2 years.

During Punk’s rehab I felt incredibly guilty. I had taught this dog that the only thing that matters in the world is agility. I then took that away from him. He taught me that there has to be more to life than the game of dog agility. While I would hike with him, play ball with him, swim with him etc, I taught him that agility was his universe. I will never do that with another dog. A dog’s career is fleeting.

When my husband left me, Punk didn’t. He comforted me when I was alone. He loved me when I felt unlovable. He wanted me when I was unwanted. He needed me when I felt useless. He knew my heart. He knew who I was when I didn’t. He sat with me while I sobbed… and he cried too…

When Man Human moved in, Punk was so relieved. He trusted him and was happy to go back to being a dog. He no longer needed to be a caregiver. He knew that we were in good hands, and he relaxed.

Punk is our constant shadow. One of his favorite games is trying to lick Man Human’s hands. He sneaks around and gets him at the most unexpected times. He’s a smiler, and he loves to show off all of his teeth when he finally gets that hand lick in!

He loves to bark at the TV while we are trying to watch. He used to only bark at Agility, but now he yells at pretty much anything. I think Man Human taught him how to yell at the television…

I have so much more to say about this amazingly beautiful soul, but I will save it for another time. To the red dog who proved that you can have more than one heart dog, you have made my life whole. Thank you.

Lady Human