How I met Gucci

It was summer 2004, and I finally was living in an apartment that had a yard. I was holding out for an apartment with a yard so that I could get my first dog. There were only 2 problems. The apartment was tiny, and the yard was more like a dog run. If my memory serves me correct it was 10x15, and 75% was patio slabs. This was not an ideal yard for most breeds of dogs. As a young man I wasn’t to interested in the small toy type dogs, and because I was working, I knew I didn’t have the time for a high energy breed. Eventually I decided on getting a french bulldog. I did some research and found a 1 year old male from a reputable breeder. My brother and I drove to a small town between Kingston and Ottawa to pick him up. After getting lost and being on the road for 6 hours we arrived at this remote house to be greeted with a pack of 15 french bulldogs. For anyone who hasn’t experienced the force of 15 dogs all snorting and barking in unison, it truly is a great experience. While walking amongst all the frenchies, one little guy kept catching my attention, wiggling around my feet. You see French bulldogs don’t have much in the way of tails, so when they get excited they wag their bums, and it is even cuter than it sounds. This little guy was Gucci, or “The Gucci Man” or “The Gooch” as we now call him. Many he was, and still is an amazing dog. He was 1 when I brought him home, and the breeder did such a great job raising and training him. I didn’t need a leash, he was house broken, he was loyal, he was obedient, he was great in the car, and he loved everyone and every dog. In short, he was the perfect dog. So perfect that when my wife and I moved into our current house with a large yard, she decided that she wanted another frenchie for Gucci to play with. Now play close attention to the words I use. The story stared with “my” dog Gucci and how “perfect” he is. And in this next section I use words like “my wife wanted” and “she decided”. And this is where the real story starts…   Gucci 2007

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