Phoebus is as if he had fallen asleep at night bathed but still with wet hair, having forgotten the music on the tuning fork, and suddenly woke up in the morning with his eyes cutting him off because he had forgotten to take off his flashlights, his hair frizzy as it dried itself in sleep, and a wonder as to how this night went so wrong at the same time as a sourness because of the wool, Because of the lenses that cut him, and because he discovered, among other things, that he ran out of coffee.
You understand what has happened to the dog and its appearance, and how much inspiration it creates for us by its whole stature and its nose and style.
In addition to all the above, Phoebus is the classy shepherd who is bored with his life enough, who goes out to smell and make his chisa slowly and bored, and whose philosophy of life is "why should I try where, I don't see the reason/ Why should I sit when I can lie down/ Why should I go there if I can stay where I am?
Phoebus had been found with a rope buried deep in his neck, having become one with his skin that was slowly rotting. Apparently when he was a puppy someone tied him up, left him, the rope remained around his neck, and as he grew, the rope got deeper and deeper into his neck.
Now he has a mark around his neck where some hair is missing and nothing else. No wound is left from what he has been through, and he walks on the leash just fine.
When he is free on the estate, he follows us on ALL dog walks. He starts with us and with any dog we take for a walk, following from behind, in some parts of the route cuts a road and finds us again at the point where we pass, suddenly appearing in a phase of "TSA, I caught up with you", then he sits on the lake, where we always stop with all the dogs, and then uphill to the shelter, from the rear guard turns it to the vanguard, walking ahead, and waiting in the parking lot until we come out with the next dog.
And give it all over again. He is capable of making ten times the whole estate. He is so consistent that he apparently considers this to be his job for a few days, to necessarily go wherever the herd goes. We say he will get tired and stop but NO, he continues. It's to work overtime, he tells you today, never mind, I like my job.
Any dogs he likes he already plays with like a puppy, rolls on the grass, and for most of every walk he has a smile.
We met him at the municipal kennel of Tripoli, and fell in love with him. For his sullen face, for his mixed hair, and for his wonderful character. It has all the good things about a sheepdog, all these characteristics that we adore about these animals, and none but no negatives.
