Pino the “Underdog”

What a cutie!

Jonas (our deceased dog) gave birth almost four years ago to her second litter composed of four puppies, two females and two males. My mom gave us permission to keep a male puppy. Several weeks after I saw one who was growing beautifully: hes’s huggable, adorable, almost like a teddy bear everyone loves. I named him Teddy—yet a relative who lives next door adopted him.

With four puppies to choose from my sister picked a black puppy that she perceived to become furry later on. She has high hope while I have doubt. I thought the puppy is not the ideal one to adopt, an underdog I must say. Frustrated with her decision, I teased her about choosing a rodent and even encourage her to pick a less-looking-rodent puppy even if it’s a female.

But no matter what unpleasant remark or mocking the little one gets—she was determined to keep him at all costs. The lucky fellow found a friend, a saver, through my sister.

The Change of Heart

I admit, I immediately judged the poor puppy. To make up for the wrong deed, I came up with a name for him. Fairy tales are the best source in naming a dog: IC was almost named after a famous character, while the unnamed, cherished pup fetch a short-yet-suitable name. It’s so easy to guest. I’m telling no lie; otherwise, my nose will elongate, a funny punishment. Still clueless?

Pinocchio! I took only the first four letters: Pino that is also based in Pinoy because her mom, Jonas, is an Aspin (asong Pinoy or Filipino dog).

Fortunately, my sister treated him well in spite of not resembling a teddy bear. She gave everything he needs: Pino is well fed, received vaccinations. And when she’s going out, we are tasked to feed him on time, and sufficiently, though most of the time I gave more than enough, because he looks as though begging.

He eats different treats that my sister bought online. (I somewhat envy him because we haven’t bought anything online for ourselves; window shopping on the net is all we do.) Pino is pampered with love and attention of my sister. They are thick as thieves; inseparable beings. No wonder Pino loves my sister more than anyone in the house. There are times that he wouldn’t obey us, but if my sister gave a command he follows instantly. He’s like a son to her that everyone in the house refer to Pino as “your son” when we complain to my sister about Pino’s mischief.

Pino is the center of attention in our family. It’s the benefits of having one dog. But it didn’t take long—as many rivals came one after the other.

Fatherhood and Green-eyed Monster

Today, I no longer liken him to a rat. Pino has grown with a resemblance to Teddy, his brother. There color differs yet both have furry coat. Together with IC, He had fathered to eight puppies that I didn’t judge by their look anymore: furry, chubby, resembling a rat or a bear, all of them deserve love.

We like having them around and Pino is getting the hang of fatherhood. But there are times when we play with them and he would immediately come near as though he’s saying “What about me, have you forgotten me?” So a quick pat on the head, I supposed, tell him that we still love him. Jealousy becomes more evident when we have more dogs. They seem to vie for attention.

And Pino who used to be the only dog insists himself even more to her mom that when my sister is sitting, Pino would sit on her lap just like when he was a young, carefree puppy. Even if he’s too big and heavy my sister doesn’t complain—not for more than five minutes.

Many things have changed as he grows. Yet he still prefer to sleep in my mom’s room whenever he pleases. He still loves to eat, and he’s still the son—the apple of the eye of my sister.

The moral of the Pino’s mini-biography is not to judge a puppy by his look. Ask Pino. He surely wouldn’t lie unlike Pinocchio and say, “Look at me now. Big and furry and no longer an underdog.”