…but that’s just an excuse for me to gush about my awesome dog (hey, the Nords clearly agreed with me!)
I always knew I wanted an Irish Wolfhound. The first time I saw one, it was at a dog park near my home. I was in middle school. I remember seeing the huge, fur covered white mound bound up to it’s master gleefully. At full height, an Irish wolfhound averages from 32 to 32 inches. It looked a lore more like Falkor than any dog I’d ever seen.
Over the next decade I researched the breed tirelessly. It is very old; People say they were brought to Ireland as early as 7000 BC. In Irish, they’re called “Cú Faoil” . They were so successful at hunting wolves and elk on the British mainland that they drove both species to local extinction, and then themselves nearly died out as a consequence. They were so revered, it was a common practice for them to be gifted to kings.
HOW COOL IS THAT?
Everyone kept telling me “You’re a small girl, you can’t get a dog that big, it’ll eat you!”
Wolfhounds are one of the gentlest and most loyal breeds of dog.
But yeah, they’re pretty big. My last semester of college, I couldn’t help myself. I googled “wolfhound mix puppy”. I ended up driving down to Asheville and picking him up in a McDonalds parking lot. The car broke down, and it was a 100 degree day. As I sat there on that Mickey Dees lawn, attempting to feed water to a dog that was just separated from his family and abandoned with me, my first thought was “Oh my god he’s going to hate me, being my dog already sucks!”
And that was the beginning of what I hope to be a loooooooong love affair.