A tripod is a dog with three legs. Usually they come to this stage in their life as a result of an injury or bone cancer. I met my first tripod when I was a little girl and the neighbor dog had a leg amputated. I remember how badly I felt for the dog. Until he came home from the veterinarian. As soon as he was home that dog was running and hopping everywhere.
I was still surprised this morning to see a giant 3-legged Labradoodle. He was huge. He ran around loose on the football field better than recent Cleveland Brown’s running backs run to the goal line.
He came over to check out Benji. Benji has perfected the “stalk and run.” Off to the races these two went. I watched this big, butterscotch ball of fur as he played and ran and twirled and turned.
Somewhere in his zest for life is a lesson. He has overcome what others consider a handicap. He has not only overcome it, he seems to have thrived. If he could talk he would probably say, “What handicap?”
Research says that being a “tripod” is easier for a small dog than a big dog. Apparently this Doodle did not get that memo.
Research says that you have to think for them since they don’t always know their limitations. Apparently this Doodle did not get that memo.
Perhaps there is something in all of our lives that “we did not get the memo” or should not get the memo!
He cares less about who is in the White House than that he is not in the dog house.