Gordy; My Inspiration

Gordon, Gordo, Gordy. El Gordo me gusta, Gordy wa suki desu. I love you Gordy Sipriano. SPAAAANNNKKK YOUUUU!

Despite whatever my father says, I love my dogs. Lots. And I tell him so every night. “Gordy, come here baby. You’re the only boy for me. You’re the sweetest, you’re the best dog in the world aren’t you?”

So maybe that sounds a little creepy, but honestly. Gordy is the best dog in the world and he is the only boy I love.

Gordo is one special dog. He’s some kind of pound mutt that predominately Australian Heeler that we got at the Human Society in Hawaii. He had one day left in the pound before they euthanized him so we had to take him. Besides, he seemed to be addicted to my brother’s ear wax so it’s not like we could just deprive him.

He’s my inspiration. If ever I had the chance to live somebody else’s life, I would choose Gordy’s. Besides having my parent’s unconditional love, (please, I know my parents love me, but I would never be spoon fed ice cream or hand fed a burger the same night I pissed on the carpet) he’s one bad ass pooch. But I don’t think I could ever get used to his strange habit of eating his own poop. But hey, that’s his prerogative.

Gordy has the dorkiest name ever given to a dog. And when I say dorky, I strictly mean dorky, voiding all embarrassing names such as Buddy, Fido and Schnukumbums. If I were a dog with that name, I would take every opportunity I could to strangle myself with my leash until success. Gordy’s full name is Gordon Hound, named after “the greatest hockey player of all time” as my dad would say, crossing himself as he did.

Despite the creative origins of his name, Gordon is still a dorky name. Gordy the dog even has red hair like you would imagine a human with the same name would have. But my dog rocks it. The name and the hair.

Gordy only cuddles when it’s on his terms, a quality I should really learn from. If he doesn’t like the spot I give him on my twin size bed, he’ll either (literally) push me over until he is comfortable, or go find somewhere else to sleep. And that’s that. He’ll be comfortable wherever he chooses and you’ll be left with a cold bed and you better learn to deal. This is something I should really learn to apply to men.

Gordy doesn’t sell out and he never does what he doesn’t want to do. Unless it’s for treats. But then again, he is a dog, what more can you expect from him? But you can give him treats all day, if he doesn’t want to give you kisses at the end of the night, he won’t do it. Another thing I should learn to apply to men.

Last of all, Gordy takes no shit. He once messed up a large bulldog when it tried to take Gordy as his bitch. Gordy isn’t a beefy or violent dog, but the bulldog had to go to the doggy hospital for stitches and Gordy got to keep his pride. And if that doesn’t deserve respect, I don’t know what does. But I’m also pretty sure Gordy did time and learned how to defend his butt-pride long before we adopted him. He’s got the tattoos to prove it.

Gordy is getting old though. When we first got him, he was just a rambunctious pup that pooped on floors and didn’t listen to anybody. But Gordy’s personality has aged like wine and despite the fact that he has the tendency to be a cranky old bastard on most occasions, I can still learn how to respect myself from him.

And that either says that he’s one special and majestic pooch, or that I am really in need of guidance if I’m taking it from a dog.