Bruce Goes to the Beach… Alone

Independence streak and sassiness galore.

Bruce, the lovable Estrella Mountain dog-in-residence at the Dobrovitsky family institute of life experiences likes two things. One is long walks. The other, clearly marking what he considers to be the territory in his kingdom. Besides this, being a shepherd, he believes he has several duties. Duty #1 is to be on a lookout for acts of independence. Duty #2, is to pick an outsized piece of land surrounding any residence in which his family resides (including houses of neighbours and any tourist destinations nearby) and to plant his fluffy flag firmly in said land. Simply put, if you have ever seen the Disney’s animated movie The Lion King, and if you remember the scene where Mufasa tells little Simba, that, “Look, Simba, everything the light touches is our kingdom”, that is Bruce’s approach to staking out his land.

As a being with an independence streak, Bruce loves to find ways to escape. In this way, sometimes I think he has had a secret Husky ancestor. We have had many colourful stories of him escaping. Once, my wife left a window open for airing out the house. This, as it turned out, was a serious mistake in the face of our Bruce, who figured out how to climb-up our kitchen counters, and toss himself out of the window of our bungalow house, and into a promenade that lasted for the next three hours. Meanwhile we, the foolish ones, were panicking, driving for hours looking for our fluffy friend. Was he abducted? Did he get hit by a car? Is he cold? Is he hungry? Nope, dude just needed some air, and decided to go check on the neighbours (as well as the neighbours of the neighbours), in the small town we were living in.

Another time, someone broke into our car in an Airbnb we were staying in. Bruce decided that it was time to be the commando he always knew he was, and used his big paw to unlock the gate from the garden to go for a walk, by himself. What was he looking for? Was it to mark his kingdom or was it to look for the person that hurt his family’s car? We don’t know. What we do know is that what ensued was another three hours worth of us driving up and down the city we were living in, screaming his name in our full operatic voices, and posting panicked comments in the various Facebook dog lovers groups connected to our area, only to have him come back, use his same huge paw to knock on our gate, look at me as if saying, “that was a damn good walk, dad”, eat his food, and go to sleep in the corner.

The last time this happened we were living in a small city in Europe. We had worked tirelessly to secure the fence so that under no circumstances could he escape. Sure enough, two weeks into our stay, he somehow managed to figure out how to use his huge paw to unlock the gate and left. Cue the same pattern of events as before. Cue the panic, the writing in Facebook groups, and wondering if our tiny baby was abducted, and is he hungry? Could a car have hit him? Three hours later, he knocks on our door, comes in smelling of the ocean dew and forest freshness, goes in to get some drink and food, and passes out in the corner. At this point, my wife looked at me and said, “I bet he needed a swim in the ocean, went out there, most likely scared the living daylights out of everyone in the beach, sniffed, said hi to all his doggy friends, and decided to turn in for the evening”.

In the end, Bruce always reminds us that life is meant to be explored. He’s a shepherd with a kingdom to survey, a fluffy adventurer who refuses to be contained by mere fences or worries of humans. Every escape, every triumphant return, shows us a glimpse of his wild heart, loyal to his family but devoted to his mission of independence. And while each adventure may add a few more grey hairs to ours, Bruce always comes home, tired and proud, letting us know that his kingdom is safe once more.