So, if you are unfortunate enough to land at the Sanctuary during December, you get a Christmas-themed name. I LOVE Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, (Erik HATES A Christmas Carol because he worked in theatre for most of his life) but I know he’s wrong, so here’s Bob Cratchit. (We’ve also had Dickens, Ebenezer, and Martha…you know, “it’s such a goose, Martha”…and we currently have Topper for those keeping track. We can’t have Marley because it’s the most overused dog name in history, and my brother-in-law’s name was Fred, so that’s a no-go. I do have a tarantula named Tiny Tim and two Euromastyx lizards who are The Fezziwigs, but I digress).
Okay, so I was told by the shelter that Bob was a sweet, old poodle. Well, he is sweet, but that’s about all that was true. He’s actually a wirehair dachshund mix, and he’s very young. But I LOVE him. He’s funny, sweet, super friendly, smart, and affectionate. Sometimes I feel like when I get a young dog by mistake, it is just the Universe giving me a little reward…you know, like a dog that might not drop dead in the next week.
The reason I know Bob is young is that he still has his testicles, and they are as firm as sugar plums. Most old dog testicles are more like the shriveled raisins you find in Aunt Bertha’s stale fruit cake. And the beautiful thing about Bob? He loves showcasing his balls. All the time. In every photo of Bob, he shares his most glorious attributes. Unfortunately, at some point, they’ll have to go, but we will let the world see them first. I’m sharing this one photo, but if you find yourself wanting more, you’ll have to subscribe to his Only Fans account.