My dog is truly a Kootenay dog. His name is Santino, or Sonny, as I like to call him. He was born in a very small community called Donald, 20 minutes north of Golden. His mother is a yellow lab and to my knowledge, she still resides in Donald. His father on the other hand is part German Sheppard and part, get this.....wolf. that's right...wolf.
Now Sonny is not wolf-like in appearance, but he can be terribly wolf-like in demeanor. He is extremely territorial, wearing a solid path around the border of his home and breathing fire at anyone who dares cross the line, be it man, woman, child or dog. Not to give the impression that he's of the vicious type, he just likes to let people know who's space they are invading. His loyalty to the alpha male and female of his pack (me and my wife), as well, is very wolfish.
Sonny looks like a lab. Big, floppy, soft ears and a long narrow snout. His colours set him apart though. Underlying black with large amounts of yellow and red (only in certain light) mixed in. His hair is also silver tipped, like that of a grizzly bear. All of this makes him extremely camouflaged in any sort of foliage, and he almost disappears in long summer grass...virtually invisible. i often lose sight of him when he lies next to the wood pile in the backyard.
When Sonny was a pup, I would stuff him into a backpack and haul him up the trails around Golden on my bike. Once at the top, I'd let him out and then I'd tear down the singletrack. At the bottom I'd stop and listen, sure enough, his puppy yelps would come into earshot and slowly get louder and louder till he too had made it to the bottom. He never veered of course, and he always got faster. This may sound cruel, but it helped Sonny become the best trail dog I've ever set eyes on. Nowadays, he leads on the way up, I lead on the way down, a simple, "Hey!", gets him of the trail and out of my way.
He's got a sixth sense about biking. He knows we're going even before I do. It's usually his enthusiasm that tilts the scale to the ride side.
Like any good old Kootenay boy, skiing is also one of his pastimes. Similar to biking, he likes to lead on the way up. However, he gets tired in the snow, and falls behind, never behind the pack, just behind the leader. I usually end up waiting for him a lot on the way down, because like everyone I know, deep pow wears him out. Nothing beats the sight of a dog face plastered with fresh snow.
Sonny's been sprayed by skunks, hit by a car, and fined by by-law enforcement. He's been on more peaks than I care to write about, ran some of the best trails in the province, rolled in countless carcasses, eaten more feces than I care to write about, rode on more snowmobiles than most people, helped raise two kids, had gay "sex" with a number of other Kootenay dogs, and driven over huge mountain passes either with his head out the window or pacing in the back of the pick-up. He's been chased by bears, been in many a dogfight, and bitten the head off several yellow-bellied ground squirrels and he always loves a good bonfire. Most of all, he's been the best friend a guy could ask for.
Sonny is a true Kootenay dog. If he were human, he'd definitely have a nice mullet, drive a beat up pick-up with a box full of empty beer cans and scratched up cushy bikes hanging over the tailgate.He'd work hard and play harder, he'd be loyal and he'd push you to do your best. And all his skis would be rock skis.
Here's to Sonny and all the other Kootenay dogs.
