Louie (Louis Alexander Humpalunga)

On August 17, 2004 Julie and I became the proud parents of our new puppy, Louie. He was a stray dog being sheltered at the Washington Animal Rescue League in Northeast D.C. From what we know about him, he came from Georgia and was approximately 9 months old when adopted. Louie isn't a specific breed, but rather a super-mutt. The shelter called him a Dachshund mix and we agree, but he clearly has some Beagle and Labrador lineage as well.

Picking Louie was not the straightforward task it should have been. Julie and I both wanted a big dog—not Great Dane big—but not a small dog. It was not to be though, as our new apartment manager decided to enforce the 35 pound weight limit on new dogs in the building. So we took several trips to the shelter, looking for the elusive small big-dog, or big small-dog. After several weeks and many candidates, we found Louie.

At nine months old, Louie weighed under the 35 pound weight limit (he's put on a little weight since then—shhh) and thus was certainly a candidate. My first impression of him was that he was a bit funny looking. Some of those Daschshund genes gave him a slightly long body, and he's wasn't exactly tall. Nonetheless, he was extremely friendly and most importantly, Julie loved him. It was quite apparent that he was the dog for us when we first led him out of the shelter to our car. Upon opening the back door, he hopped right in and sat down ready to go.

Miraculously, Louie was somehow innately housebroken, and we've only ever had a couple of uh-oh instances. Oddly he doesn't mind peeing in other poeople's houses, but usually only once. We think he's just marking his territory. Of course he thinks everywhere is his territory. Overall, training him has been an interesting affair. Inside, he will learn tricks extremely quickly. His appetite is so voracious that he will do anything for a treat. He has so far mastered sit, stay, stand, down, beg, paw, belly-rub, roll-over, give-ten, and dance. Outside, it's a completely different story as he generally pretends we don't exist and spends most of his time sniffing and hunting squirrels. Due to his hound instincts we can't take him off of a leash outside. He would (and has) run off down hillsides chasing whatever scent happened to float into his overactive nose.

Julie and I have been pretty good parents, but have definitely spoiled him at times. Over the past year we have showered him with toys and treats, taken him to parties, and even brought him along to a few bars and stores. It's not as strange as it sounds, as several local bars and stores encourage puppy patrons with water bowls and treats available. It's a smart business move, as there are hundreds of dog owners in our neighborhood. We even have our own association called AMDOGS. A couple of months after adopting him, a nearby dog park was built as a test-case for the city. Louie now visits the park three times a day and has made many friends.

Interestingly, while walking down the street I'll meet people that know Louie whom I've never met. Most of the time these are people that Julie has met at the dog park, but occassionally people will simply know Louie by reputation. He has developed a reputation of being extremely friendly and treat-loving. While other dogs are chasing each other around and playing with sticks, he will often sit on top of picnic tables being pet and given treats from other dog owners. Apparently he's so cute they just can't resist. Louie is also known for his larger-than-you'd-imagine bark. He's quite a vocal dog with a big hound-dog howl he uses to get attention. In addition to his howl, he has also developed an interesting “inside voice” that he uses while in the apartment. This voice is much closer to speech than his outside howl and sometimes we swear he's trying to talk to us.

There isn't enough room here to post all of the great Louie stories or photos. If you'd like to meet Louie in person, swing by Walter Pierce Dog Park with a treat in hand. He'll be the first to greet you at the gate and the last to stop sniffing your pockets.