Today I write about my dog, Rooney.

I have always had dogs as family members and companions. I think they only time I didn’t have a dog is when we were living overseas, and even then we adopted a dog in England and brought him home when we moved back to USA. This dog – Rooney – is unique in a few ways. They are all unique in personality, but this pup is a kook. So says my vet, who claimed that Rooney was her favorite.

It all started when we adopted Surrey, a beautiful little 2-month-old black lab puppy, from a group called Adopt-a-lab. As it turns out, black dogs get adopted far less often than others as they are not as photogenic. Black lab faces are harder to see in a photo. Surrey came to us as a very young pup, and she was the sweetest dog we have ever had. She still is. She was calm and loving and well-behaved right from the beginning. Surrey is the closest thing to a perfect dog we have ever had.

So…my wife decided that we should try again. You know they old saw about having a perfect well-behaved baby who sleeps through the night, so you figure the second one will be just as good, and then…. Same.

My wife adopted Rooney from the same organization, Adopt-a-lab, and made it her business for it to be a surprise. We picked up Rooney from the van that had driven her from Arkansas or Tennessee or wherever she had come from, I can’t remember which. Rooney was already 6 months old – this is an important fact, as it turned out that she had some history.

Rooney was ill-behaved, skinny, unattractive (for a lab) and difficult. She was not affectionate at all, she pissed and pooped everywhere, starting in the car on the way home. In short, she was everything Surrey was not. This went on for quite some time. We of course got her cleaned up, but she was skinny and apparently untrainable. She ran around, wouldn’t listen, chewed, wouldn’t be house trained and continued to refuse to be affectionate. After a few months of this, the thought that we might not be able to keep Rooney crossed my mind. It was the closest I have ever come to giving a dog back, and of course I could never actually do it, but the thought definitely crossed my mind.

She was named Rooney, after a gentleman named Wayne Rooney. He was one of our (my son and my) favorite footballers (soccer players) in the UK. He played for Manchester United, and was hard-headed, stubborn and ill-behaved. He got in trouble regularly, but was an amazing football player, great with the ball, huge amounts of energy on the pitch (field) and wonderful to watch. My Rooney was same – hard headed and got in trouble and stubborn as hell…but also great with a soccer ball. She (yes Rooney is a she, though I don’t think she realizes it) played only with a soccer ball, right from the beginning. She wouldn’t chase a tennis ball – could care less. Try to get the soccer ball from her, though, just try. I brought her to the high school soccer team’s practice once and dared them to try and play keep away from Rooney. None could succeed.

Rooney turned out to be athletic as hell – she played soccer, she ran with abandon and she could scale the fence (about 5 feet high) around our swimming pool every single day it was open, so she could go swimming. Oh and could she swim. We had to be careful in Maine as she would swim out to follow us in kayaks. One time she followed my daughter for probably 1/2 mile, until she had to turn around and lead her back.

Rooney was an impressive bundle of muscle.

Eventually – we didn’t give her back of course – she calmed down…a little at a time. It probably took a couple of years, to be honest, but she started to pay attention and become part of the family. Surrey probably helped. Rooney and Surrey grew to love each other like sisters and it’s lovely to watch them together.

Rooney is now 11 years old. She can’t scale the fence any longer, but she can still swim 1/2 mile when given the chance. She has turned into a loving girl, and real part of the family. She is definitely a kook and prefers to be dirty. All the time. She sleeps in the dirty in my wife’s garden, she plays in the mud and on the rare occassion she is forced to bathe, she immediately heads for dirt afterward. I’ve given up trying to keep her clean – she is happiest when she is dirty. One of my son’s friends just calls her “Dirty Girl,” and he loves her.

I will never know Rooney’s history, but I am guessing it was pretty bad for a 6-month-old puppy to be so poorly behaved and difficult to deal with. It does prove to me, however, that any dog will respond to love and nurture and eventually come around. We love Rooney – she is weird and quirky but she behaves and she loves us back.

I hope she lives for quite a while yet.