There are not enough adjectives to describe Durango. If a cartoonist wished to form a caricature of a bulldog, he’d choose Durango.
He is a 58-pound black and whit pit-mix who came to us in mid January at around 10 months old. A bow-legged stray full of tape and hook worms, Durango has been a handful from the very beginning.
He is so full of energy and life that he makes the famous Marley look like a bunny rabbit. He is the proverbial bull in the china shop and no matter what mischief he gets into, he maintains this wide gaping grin on his face as if to say, “What, what did I do?” He’s strong as an ox too, when he gets those legs churning it would take a brick wall to stop him (perhaps). Durango has been teemed up with a bunch of cage mates through the months (currently Chocolate) and though he looks fearful, he’s merely playful. As a matter of fact, the more docile his cage mate, the sweeter he becomes. I could just see him being big brother to someone’s Pomeranian. Durango loves people too, almost to a fault, still he is obviously a tough sell.
Case in point…yesterday while working my shift I was trying to get him and Chocolate out for their morning run while we cleaned his cage. Durango pushed open the cage door and darted free before I could loop his leash on, it wasn’t the first time he’s pulled this maneuver. He headed out to the fenced-in area where all our other dogs were in their areas and began to rile them up as I followed, leash in hand.
This is a game he loves, he’s even learned to open his gate so he can do it on his own, so we must secure his latch with a clip.
“Come here Durango, I don’t have time for your shenanigans,” I said.
I finally trapped him where the only way out was through me. As he came toward me the look in his eye told me he had every intention to dart by me for more fun. I felt like Tom Hanks on the pier in “Tuner and Hooch.” As he tried to get by, I slipped the loop over his head in bullfighter fashion and his momentum knocked me right on my butt.
“You big doof,” I yelled while hanging on for dear life. “I’m gonna cook you for lunch.”
Realizing he was finally caught, Durango sauntered over, put his paws on my shoulder and proceeded to thoroughly wash my face. Needless to say, the crazy old man telling this tale is madly in love with this big brute. I can’t say if telling this story will hurt or help Durango’s chances for adoption, but if you have the right environment and want a lesson on how to live life, come on in and check out this magnificent beast.
Thanks for listening.