Ode to Odin

          I have a grand-dog.  Perhaps this is because I have no grandchildren, but it’s also because our middle son, Brandon, has a humongous Great Dane that weighs about 170 lbs. Here they are, in L.A. where they live:

          The dog is named Odin, after the fierce Nordic god similar to Zeus. But this Odin is not fierce; he is a lovable lug and even a bit of a baby.

 We had a Great Dane years ago, and found they are the gentlest of breeds. Odin is scared of firecrackers, for example, and doesn’t want to go out after dark. To hug you he presses his forehead against the crook of your neck (or tries to sit on your lap). It’s almost as if he’s surprised by how big he grew, and hopes you won’t notice.

   Brandon captured this great shot of Odin at a Los Angeles dog park, where Odin was looking for gophers but couldn’t quite find one:

          And another shot of Odin playing at the beach:

Once or twice a year Odin comes to visit. They were just here for St. Bob’s birthday, and we had a blast watching our grandson—I mean our granddog—enjoy himself at the mountain cabin of our dear friends, the Theriaults (Thank you!).

Odin is mobbed by fans wherever he goes, all wanting photos, all wanting to pet him.  Brandon says it’s basically like traveling with Brad Pitt. And Odin is so used to all this attention that he reacts with patient boredom.

So no, this is not a traditional lyric poem which odes usually are.  Maybe it’s just a love letter to a dog that’s not only a grand-dog, but a dog who is truly grand.

Have you watched my YouTube Mom videos, lately?  Scroll through hundreds of short life hacks right here, and watch for my own dog, a little Taco Terrier Chihuahua mix!