When I was a toddler my parents adopted a dog. He was a mixed breed, possibly half German Shepard, half Husky. Not very large, not super small either. I wouldn't say he was the cutest dog in the world, but he was definitely full of playful energy. He was always up for games, and jumping up on people in excitement. Which is why I would often mimic my parents and command him to sit. My parents would tell him "shev", which means "sit" in Hebrew. I would tell him "shef", which means "one who cooks professionally", in English. Hence his name became Chef. Chef was constantly trying to run out of the house to explore the outside world on his own, (despite us having a very large backyard where he had plenty of room to play). When we did take him on walks, he was in heaven. I swear that dog could've been a wolf out in the wild. So wild that I found myself having to peel my scraped body off the cement numerous times to chase after him. I was mad at him. Why couldn't he just be a chill dog and not play tug of leash? To be fair, I probably shouldn't have tried to walk him while on roller skates. You live and you learn.
Last week I met a dog named Tamrak. I'm not sure if I'm spelling his name right. He wouldn't tell me. He was too busy playing fetch, which is, of course, understandable. From a distance, Tamrak looked almost exactly like Chef. I was quite taken aback by it. That's not an easy look to mimic. It made me miss him. Each time I see someone with their dog I think, why don't I have one yet?? Tamrak's owner is a friend of ours and he brought a slackline to the park. We did our best not to fall on our faces. It was a fun day. Here's some proof.