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My adopted son, Dr. Wesley Von Spears, was found roaming the streets of Carson City, California, and was taken in by the dog shelter there when he was just a few months old, which is where he and I first met.  I didn’t at first adopt Von Spears because he was, to put it mildly, a fucking maniac.  I went into the cage with him for a few minutes and he freaked out, unable to stop wriggling around and jumping against anything he could – me, the walls, etc. 

At the time, I was married and we had an older cat and I was afraid Von Spears (who at the time was just "cute, insane puppy with dark black face") would harass our kitty. 

While I was at the Carson City Shelter, I met Kathy, who runs an organization called Rover Rescue.  She actually adopted Von Spears from the shelter to spare his life and adopt him out.  Kathy liked us and said she’d help us find a dog to fit our needs. I have some mild allergies to some dogs (like my favorites, bulldogs) and needed a dog that didn’t shed.  

Kathy introduced us to a couple of dogs that just didn’t feel "right."  (When I look for a new dog, I put a lot of work into it.  I look at dozens of dogs, because I know I’m picking a member of my family, and I don’t want to ever have to return a dog or find a new home for one.  As far as I’m concerned, it’s one of the biggest choices in life.)

Anyway, Kathy called me one Saturday morning and asked me if I remember the cute, black-faced puppy from the shelter.  I said yes.  She said she had found a home for him, but he was more than the family could handle, and they were giving him back.  She asked me if we wanted to take one more look at him.

I don’t know why, I knew this dog was a freak, but I said I would go check him out again – truth to tell, I had never totally forgotten about him.

So we went to the family’s home and checked out the little fellow.  He wasn’t at all like he was at the pound.  He was active like a puppy, sure, but he was also very sweet and gentle and not at all crazed.  He must have just been whacked out in the confines of the shelter, I guessed.  I knew this was the dog I wanted, and I took him home with me.

The day I brought Wesley home.

Little did I know, the whole gentle-dog-thing was A TRICK!  Dr. Wesley Von Spears was DYING!  We took him to the vet the day we got him, in part because he had a runny nose, and they said he had kennel cough – which is pretty common for pound dogs.  However, that night Von Spears’ kennel cough went into viral pneumonia.  Luckily, I checked on him at 2 a.m. in the morning, because he could barely move, his eyes were rolled into the back of his head, and he had a temperature of over 106.

I rushed him to the emergency animal hospital, and they told me there was a good chance he was going to die.  However, the little fucker didn’t.  I was able to take him home about 24 hours later.  And, about 24 hours after that, he transformed back into the crazy little son-of-a-bitch I originally met at the shelter

He started harassing the cat, jumping onto and off of the kitchen table, barking at air, attacking my pants leg almost constantly throughout the day, and so on.  But it all seemed a little better than I feared.  Because I knew that if we hadn’t picked him up from the family that day, it would be unlikely that they would have been awake at 2 a.m. to bring him to the emergency animal hospital and, even if they had, being non-experienced pet owners, there’s a good chance they would have just let him sleep.  Either way, Von Spears likely would have died in the night at the age of five months.

And who then would have eaten through my 600 dollar Tumi bag to get at a piece of chocolate, or swallowed a pantyhose footy and had his stomach pumped, or tossed around numerous dates’ purses when they’ve come over to the house, emptying them, because he likes new toys?

Frenemies 4ever.

He’s my arch enemy and my best friend, but I can’t imagine life without him.  It’s funny how life can trick you into giving you exactly what you need when you think you don’t want it at all. 

This isn’t what I came her to JamesGunn.com to write about.  Instead, I wanted to write about Von Spears’ Canine Heritage report.  Because Von Spears is a mutt, I always wondered what his breed mix was.  To me, he looks a lot like a monkey fucked a dog, but that was unlikely.  I also wondered if Von Spears could possibly be a rare breed called a Tibetan Terrier. He’s played with Tibetan Terriers in the park and his looks are almost identical, and his personality is similar.  I know it would be unlikely that a Tibetan Terrier was in the pound… but with his energy, you never know what early home he could have escaped from.

Von Spears, earlier today.

Canine Heritage offers a DNA testing service to help decipher what breed your dog is.  I ordered the test back when they only processed 38 breeds.  Now they have over 100.  Although I got the test about a year ago, I didn’t get around to sending in Von Spears’ DNA until a few weeks ago.  I swabbed the inside of his cheek with a Q-tip type thing and sent it in.

Today, I received my results.

For some reason I find these results, fucking hilarious:  Von Spears has large parts COCKER SPANIEL and SIBERIAN HUSKY with a little bit of GREYHOUND thrown in.  He has no "Primary Breeds" — meaning he isn’t 50% or more of any one breed, but he does have significant parts of Cockers and Husky.

Some of this I see: He definitely has the floppy ears and bouncy gait of a Cocker.  And he even has the long legs of a greyhound or a mini-greyhound. 

BUT his muzzle is shorter than any of these breeds and, especially, these are all shedding breeds and Von Spears doesn’t shed.

Anyway, it’s an interesting first step.  I think I might splurge and buy the Canine Heritage pack with over 100 breeds and see if those results are any different.  When I find out, I’ll let you know.

Snaggle tooth in action.



You can still watch PG PORN: HELPFUL BUS HERE.



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