Gurky, a rescue in disguise
Ahh Gurky, we could write a whole novel about him, full of intricate riddles and freakingly outstanding events. A best seller I’m sure! Yes, that’s how special he is and how much he turned our life upside down.
The one and only Gurky! You do need triple glazing glasses to be able to fully read him!
Our very special child. Now one-eyed and completely blind, but even more gorgeous.
Several years ago, although I had already rescued my first dog, for some impenetrable reason, I wanted to enter the show ring. Not that I wanted to be a famous breeder, the idea of having a whole “stock”, sell puppies and other adults to make room and only keep the dogs who are in line with your “trademark” was just against my principles. To me, dogs were not just some goods you use for your own enjoyment and potentially boost your ego. Nope, I wanted to show that each dog was special and highlight the bond with them, promote responsible dog ownership and why not create a new club, where breeders would all be ethical (I’d be the supervisor), not be some kind of business but a real family, have few litters, keep the adult dogs until the end and stay in touch with the new parents of their offspring, who’d all be spayed and neutered. What can I say, I’m a dreamer! And quite naive at the time, I give you that! I still wanted to think there were honest people who really loved dogs and were part of this environment to do good, not to senselessly create dogs with incapacitating physical traits (deformed legs, saggy skin, super short noses, huge heads, etc., leading to serious health issues) just because it was the standard. I don’t really know why I liked the atmosphere of show rings though, because once the smokescreen faded, I noticed what many disclosed (politics, bad faith, even abuse) and it gave me an itch. We were not so far from commercial breeders and even puppy mills when you scratched some of these glittery surfaces a little! I’m not inventing, just read what we discovered here! But still, I felt, coming from nowhere, I could make a difference, maybe unveil the issues and topple the crooked people, stupid girl! I wanted to do something with dogs, and believed if I were part of a rescue organization (it was tickling me bad), it would pull too much on my heartstrings and I would have a hard time not taking them all home (crazy how that fear would come true later), so a breeding club seemed less of a risk since I did not want to breed but just show, probably a little blinded by all the bling-bling. Funny also how I later had a fondness for physically different dogs! Yes, I could have chosen another dog related activity like agility for instance, but it was not really my thing, it was fun at first and then, a little too repetitive. I know, you may point out that running in circles in a ring is quite boring too! Oh I’m a girl alright, not always cohesive… And well, when I have something in mind, no need to try and convince me it’s not a good idea, so please hear me out.
I then looked for my future champion! I felt it would be easier to have a male; I did not feel like putting a female through mating and pregnancy. I know it sounds quite illogical, but what can I say, it made sense to me! Remember, I did not want litters, I just could never have sold the pups. My stud would be like an exclusive escort, screening the girls he would charm very thoroughly, not be some kind of cheap gigolo. Anyway, I wanted a Chinese Crested and not just any. At the time, chocolate Cresteds were not very common and the only rightful show breeders who strived for that color were in Eastern Europe. That did not slow me down a bit. Long story short, Gurky came all the way from Russia with a pet nanny!
Yay, finally, my dreamy guy with show potential! Nazdrovie! To health and good luck! Yeah right. He was physically shaped to perfection and psychologically weird like any Crested should be. Except, a little too much perhaps. Be careful what you wish for! I had wanted a chocolate delight that was going to give me heartburns. Gurk is like one of those Kinder eggs, with a huge surprise inside! Or more like these matryoshka dolls, sneakily unveiling another trick when you thought you were done. The last one would hide for many years before being discovered, just to keep us on our toes…
Gurk on his first day with us. Weird to perfection!
Who won his mommy’s heart, although he played hard with her nerves.
With many obsessions and quirks, but too cute to not forgive.
The very first day, Gurk fainted! He had hypoglycemia. I was familiar with it having Chihuahuas, although none had really been prone to it. It had been a long stressful day for him, so it did not worry me too much. And yet, it was the first sign of his fragile state. Then, I noticed he had obviously never been outside before, he was panicked. OK, Paris is a little hectic, we had to go slow. I did not expect his nerves would skyrocket to the point where he would lose his mind! He hadn’t received the appropriate socializing from his breeder; we had to wait the required time to get him vaccinated against rabies and then wait for him to be able to travel, which brought him to four months of age when he arrived. The first three months of a puppy’s life are crucial for him to be balanced, so we were in a pickle! After all, we had named him after “eine Gurke”, which means gherkin in German! Did we unconsciously know?? Although I started his training right away, he got the basics pretty fast and behaved pretty well at home and with our crew, once he put his paws on the concrete, he would go berserk. He thought everything was a threat and wanted to start a fight: a pile of garbage, strollers, kids from afar (he calmed down once they approached and realized they were humans) and the worst, other dogs (he went even more uncontrollable when they were close, so we changed sidelwalks). We became quite noticed in the neighborhood! I could try any training shtick, nothing worked, he was Mr. Hyde full force. Just to give you an idea of the kind of nutcase he was, he would start a high-pitched piggy-like bark, move his head in all directions like in the Exorcist movie (he was clearly possessed) with foam coming out of his mouth. The only way to calm him down was to hold him and gently blow on his face. Maybe my breath had some holy power or on the contrary, a devilish numbing effect, not sure, but whatever, it worked. He would still let a living dead roar slip while I was carrying him, and people were looking at me in shock (we were showcasing a live horror movie indeed, for free), as if I was hurting the poor guy. Apart from those who saw him in action that is, who said he should either drop the character or get euthanized! Nope, people were not very sympathetic, especially not those who let their dogs run free in the streets and added disarray in the already tense atmosphere. The situation was so extreme that we decided to move to the countryside, where we hoped he would settle down. Extreme measures to extreme situations. And to be honest, my own nerves were quite put to the test, I surprised myself barking at people because they were so disrespectful, I needed a breather too.
I guess I don’t have to stipulate that my dream of strutting in the show ring would never come true! Putting Gurk in such an environment would have been like striking a match in a haystack, not to mention that he should never father other nuts like him! I had my head in the clouds, but I was not irresponsible! Besides, each encounter with the people of these circus shows (some were quite lame performers) left me quite disenchanted to say the least. I had been part of two different clubs and always felt I did not belong because I had other principles. And Gurk was the best example of most breeder’s carelessness. I am positive his inbreeding (another smart idea from genius breeders to highlight a desired trait, or in Gurky’s case, double the trouble) coupled with the lack of socialization during his first months of life made him a psycho. Thanks breeder, you made sure you fraught his future with pitfalls! I did mention his issues to his “creator” and of course, she said he was fine, it was all my fault! This experience proved me again how so many so-called ethical breeders did not care about the dogs they brought to this world, at all. This litter was an experiment, to get that sought-after delicious chocolate color, not matter the collateral damage. I would not create a snowball effect, never be a pimp and offer my stud for a few minutes of lust! On a funny note, a breeder in France once contacted me (she found me on that database where all Cresteds with a pedigree are listed), astounded an individual would get such a quality dog (those were her words!). She was hoping to get chocolate pups and asked if I was willing to breed him to her female. I knew the answer right away, but wanted to see what she was made of. She thought I was just an amateur and as I knew more about her and mentioned that I thought her female was too small to breed, that she should at least find a tinier male, she was pissed! Who was I, trying to hell her how she should do her job? She probably found another taker, but for the time being, I was pretty pleased to leave her frustrated… That all just set things straight, I would never set foot in a show ring and to be honest, it was probably for the better. These people just seemed way too self-absorbed and reckless. I did witness handlers with dogs as frantic as Gurky, putting the leash high on their neck so that they had no choice but follow the lead and ignore the other dogs strutting their stuff in front of them, and I felt it was so wrong.
Gurky in Paris, too troubled.
Much more at ease away from the city. See, the haystack didn’t catch fire ;)!
So once in the peaceful countryside of Normandy, Gurky did simmer down. We got rid of his crown jewels and this also helped tremendously! Bohoo, we’ll never see other deranged little Gurks! He’s way too unique after all, we couldn’t keep the mold! Anyway, he was able to concentrate more, even behave when an unfamilair dog was around (which was amazing!), in short, testosterone was not playing ticks with his mind anymore and he regained a tiny bit of sanity. But we were not our of the woods yet. One evening, he threw up and suddenly collapsed, almost unsconscious. We rushed to the vet, I tried to keep him awake during the trip (he was listless) and once arrived, after an injection, he came back to life. Turned out, it was a severe gastroenteritis. He hadn’t eaten anything he shouldn’t have that we were aware of and all of the other dogs were fine. Yep, his digestive tract was just a mess. Another “defect” of his prestigious inbreeding. Still today, we have to be super careful with what he eats (it’s not that unusual that he wakes us up in the middle of the night having diarrhea, in case you needed a picture) and ended up buying a dehydrator to make treats ourselves (in addition to his already home-made meals).
Other than those worries, Gurky was rather fine and became more balanced, so much that when we started the rescue organization and welcomed so many seniors and special needs, he was totally fine! He probaly felt more normal amongst other weirdos! The first meeting was crucial, but once he had sniffed them and the encounter went smoothly, it was no big deal. He only had issues with those who were a little nervous or too unbalanced, but he mainly avoided them, there were never any fight or animosity. He even cuddled with many of them, sometimes the less friendly ones. All the senior ladies had a crush on him! See, he was finally a special escort! Him who once couldn’t stand other dogs became a great support for the needy ones. Talk about a metamorphosis, the ex wacko showing the new rescues how to be balanced doggies! We were so proud of him!
At the time of the organization, sharing his space even with the least friendly ones.
All the senior ladies loved being in his company!
Many years went by without any hitch, more or less, until he was 7 years old. This is when the worst underlying genetic issue kicked in. Lens luxation. The last and most pernicious doll, dormant for so long in its nest, waiting for the perfect time to make its grand entrance. After seeing an opthalmologist, it didn’t leave us much hope, Gurk was already blind in one eye and the other was bound to follow the same path. Although we tried several drops and herbal supplements to hopefully limit the damage, we ended up having to remove one eye later. Damn! I went back to that database to try and find answers in his crappy family tree, only to learn that his father, who sired countless litters, was dead at 8 years old and his sister (who looked like a twin) at only 6! His mother passed away later, short of her 12th birthday… What was wrong with these dogs?! I freaked out, Gurky had already outlived his unlucky sister, but he was close to his dad’s age… Not sure why they all passed, but they were most definitely blessed with the same genetic problems. How reckless from the breeders! Both his father and mother were champions, so of course, not matter how wrecked they were inside, their looks had to be highlighted! The combination of the two did indeed produce a box of attractive truffles, but at what price? Their fillings was spoiled.
My poor Gurk. I was determined to beat the odds and make everything possible for him to live a long healthy and happy life. Unfortunately, his other eye had been harmed once when he was boarded, his old devils kicked in and he blew a fuse again being in an environment filled with too much stress and unfamiliar dogs. My punishment for having taken a vacation after years of caring for them 24/7 without any break at the time of the organization, which required them to be taken out of their safe bubble. Although I had taken extra measures to make sure it would not be too traumatic for him and other sensitive rescues (aromatherapy spray, a family-owned kennel with few other clients, their beds and familiar stuff), he had episodes of deep transe and hurt his eye in the process. We thought he would lose that eye also, since he managed to make a hole on the cornea that was pretty deep. Fortunately, the ulcer healed, except it left him with a limited eyesight. It would be a short relief, since not only this eye was also afflicted by the same disorder, but another dramatic event would definitely resolve the issue. As we were planning another trip to an ophtalmologist to potentially remove the luxated lens and save his remaining eye (although we were dubious, he had been blind on and off, when the lens moved and at the time of the ulcer, plus, this kind of surgery often failed), Gurky succeded in severely hurting this eye again, heading straight to rose bushes. One moment of inattention, me who was always so careful with him especially, I felt so bad. But nothing could ever be normal with this guy! You could keep on turning the pages, each new chapter had a more psychedelic event in store! To make it short, it resovled the lens issue, we managed to keep the eye (although I’d been advised to have it removed), but when it all healed, Gurky didn’t recover his eyesight. He was now a blind little pirate.
With the first luxated eye.
That unfortunately had to be removed.
Our rescue in disguise.
Who just turned 10, outliving his father and sister.
So this is why I can in full knowledge of the special case say that Gurky is a rescue in disguise. He was supposed to be in the limelight but instead, he dragged us into the darkest coverts of the dog world. I sometimes joke that I should bring him to a dog show now, I’m sure renowned breeders would be horrifed, thinking he is a freak when he actually is the creation of one of their compeers! They don’t like it when people put a mirror in their face, they’d rather keep on dazzling their public and be in denial. After all, they’re almost almighty for modelling perfect living creatures! They manipulate genes to win the jackpot, like alchemists who can turn anything into gold, thinking they are elites for finding the secret formula! Hocus-pocus, but I smelled the rat. Gurky made us more aware and knowledgeable, force us to look beyond appearances and made us fervent believers in rescue. He never won blue ribbons, even if he definitely is a champion, in disaster. But he is our very own champion, for overcoming all of his issues, with our help, but still! A little Rocky, who once wanted to use his fists to fight in the streets. Now a senior, he already lived longer than his father and sister, resisting against the clock, even if he endured a few straight punches. He did lose quite a few teeth as well, another great genetic heritage. But you would never guess he cannot see a thing when you spot him strut with a toy in his mouth, avoiding obstacles like he was seeing them from afar. I had thought that becoming blind would make him even more anxious, but he is susprisingly resilient and actually way more chill now that he can’t see anymore. He still reacts a tad when he gets the whiff of another dog, but it doesn’t escalade and he can contain himself. He remains a weirdo, but we know how to handle his idiosyncrasy. We know many people would not have put up with his many quirky behaviors and health issues, but we did because we love him and he was part of our family the minute he fainted on our doorstep! Each new trouble made me love him even more, because he needed me to cope with it and remain as balanced as possible. I’m sure he would have eventually ended up abandoned, either because his breeder had enough of his fights with the other inmates or pissed because he had too many problems, or because his owners couldn’t put up with the extra care he required to handle both his disabling health issues and nutty behaviors. I guess he ended up with us for a reason, and we are pretty glad he did, even if he took us where we never expected to even pay a visit! He made us Gurks to the bone and we are quite proud of it!
Much more relaxed now, even in the Big Apple.
A happy boy and his crew.