Road Tripping with Ozzie - 1

   Yo, my name is Ozzie and I’m commandeering On Shaman’s Rock blog. Kick it up a couple notches; give it some vim and vigour. Make it howl.

   Dogs can’t write? Yeah, OK. Dogs can’t do a lot of things, according to humans. Well, the fact is dogs only act dumb. We don’t usually show our real intelligence. If we did, humans wouldn’t want us as their best friends. Humans are odd that way: they won’t get warm and fuzzy with anyone or anything smarter than themselves.

Who Says Dogs Can't Write

 

   So, let’s get the background done. I’m an Alaskan Malamute, but California bred and born in the mountains at Truckee, near Lake Tahoe. Cool place. Pine scent in the air, wild critters and, of course, tons of snow to get under your paws.

   My dad was Above the Clouds ‘Logan’ an American Kennel Club champ. Mother was Betty the Yeti, a Working Team Dog. That heritage and my AKC registration make me precious. But it’s not just breeding. I’ve had a lot of higher education. Recently I got my AKC Canine Good Citizen certification. 

   I was born July 3, 2010 and it was soon decided that my role in life would be to donate my leadership, talents and love to a family in Orinda, just outside San Francisco. Marcella, who I now call Mom, brought me down from the mountains in August and I began looking after her, husband Steve and the boys John and Marcus.

   Up in the mountains my birth name was Riley but down here they called me Ozzie. Cool because I have a rock star aura, sort of like Ozzy Osbourne. 

   So about this road trip. Every year the family goes way north to Shaman’s Rock, a place on a lake in Ontario. They visit Diane and the Old Guy, who calls me the Granddog, but I never get to go. This year Mom decided that she and the boys would take me there in an RV. The Old Guy came down to help with the trip because Steve’s work is very busy at this time of year.

   There’s much fussing over this, although I’m not sure why. My idea of hitting the road is just sneaking out the gate and following my nose. 

   I’ll let you all know when the gate opens and we start down the road.