They call me a Kentucky mutt. A chew-tastic boy who is pretty chill most of the time, but from the get-go has been a curious newshound who loves sniffing out stories and meeting anyone who might be willing to give me some snuggles.
You can call me Gibbs. After all, that’s my name.
This is my origin story and there’s a lot to get through. From where I came from and got to where I am, to taking up the #JournoDog mantle.
But first, let’s start with my name.
Finding a name
Officially, the name that I had when I found my fur-ever home was Gibbs. That was the appeal from day one, I’m told, and part of the reason I caught the eye of Mom and Dad when they first saw me online.
I’ve been told they are big fans of the long-running CBS show NCIS, which has a main character named Leroy Jethro Gibbs played by Mark Harmon. They even have a People magazine with him on the cover, and we’ve of course snapped some photos to share on social media.
Of course, they also felt the need to find a longer-syllable “official” name for me. So, the first name on my official documents may also appear as Gibson — a name they both seem to like to use when I’m being mischievous. Dad also points out nostalgically it’s a nod to longtime ballplayer Kirk Gibson, who played for his Detroit Tigers back in the 80s.
They’ve even added a middle name, in honor of the other main NCIS character Tim McGee. Clearly, they love this show. And I’m told that we’ll be watching it once it returns for the next season, and catching up by streaming on Netflix.
As much as I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to track down the full story on where I came from or the origins of my name. We all like to speculate that the person who originally had me down in Kentucky, was also a fan of NCIS and liked the character Gibbs, and so that’s where I got my name.
It was listed as my name on my first official veterinary vaccine record card that the shelter gave to Mom and Dad when they adopted me, but no one seems to know anything more of my backstory and how that name came to be.
That part of the story, as they say, may be left to the imagination.
Where I come from?
I’m from eastern Kentucky.
My origins are a bit unclear, but I found my way to the Kentucky River Regional Animal Shelter located near the North Fork Kentucky River region. There are several counties in that part of the state, and this shelter seems to serve them all — so it’s possible that I could have come from any of those specific places, all within an hour or so of the Virginia state line.
On my original vaccination record card, the local vet’s name is listed. With the help of my Dad (aka Editor-in-Chief), I contacted that vet to see if she remembered me or knew anything more. She is actually the one who pointed us to the shelter in the first place, since no one else had listed it anywhere. Our reporting led us to a shelter volunteer who seemed to recollect my name, but wasn’t sure if they had any records telling more of my story.
In hearing about my adoption, that Kentucky vet wrote this: “I’m so happy! Ten years ago, our shelter had a euthanasia rate of 97%. It is now under 3%, largely due to these rescue transports!“
After a bit of legwork trying to track down more info, the realization came that there wasn’t any record of me at the shelter. One likelihood is that I’d never actually stayed at the Kentucky shelter, but instead had stayed with my original owner or a foster parent until the time of my transfer to Michigan.
That could be true, and possibly a reason why I seemed to have some basic manners and house-training — that I’d come from a good home before either being lost or surrendered.
The original vet records list my birthdate as of June 2019, but it’s likely that was an inaccuracy. Either a typo, or possibly a misread on my age. My new vet here in Michigan believes I was between 1 to 2 years old at the time I came here, meaning that my birthdate would likely be in either late 2019 or early 2020.
My Doggo DNA Roots
That’s not all. Originally, they described me as a German Shepard and Lab Retreiver mix (aka Sheprador). Turns out, I have neither of those breeds in my blood.
Mom and Dad stuck a yucky swab in my mouth to take a DNA saliva sample, and a few weeks later the Dog DNA results came back.
There are 5 different breeds, each 10-25% levels of DNA present:
- Beagle
- Rhody (aka Rhodesian Ridgeback)
- Rottweiler
- Shar-pei
- Catahoula Leopard Dog
Each of these is a bit unique, but one of the key characteristics that fit all of them and clearly shine in my personality: intelligence, loyal, protective, active but also calm and gentle. And yes, some beagle stubbornness (like when I don’t wanna go on a CAR RIDE) — just enough “beagle” blood to give me the ability to howl if I really need to, but not enough to run-escape or be too much beagle.
As as I’ve written at the start, I’m a Kentucky mutt. But one with a big heart with so much love to give.
Those who met me and took me in at the I Heart Dogs rescue say that their first impressions of me were: “Gibbs was a very polite boy” with “medium energy level,” and very “go with the flow.” Another described me as “very sweet and gentle from the first time I’d met him.” And there’s this, from my main caseworker at the shelter:
“My impression of Gibbs was that his eyes were resigned, and I felt it to be he would go with the flow because he had accepted the fact he had no stability. I don’t see that in his eyes anymore. Now. I see a happy boy who knows his life has changed and it’s changed in ways he never knew was possible — from a stray fending for himself to finding someone who guarantees him plentiful food, gives him a warm bed and where the love is endless.”
I Heart Dogs volunteer in Metro Detroit
Awwwwww….!!! So many tail-ways and doggo heart-melts!!! Thanks so much for saying such nice things!
Continuing a story
So, that’s me and where I came from and how I ended up here with Mom and Dad. I am not their first doggo. They had one before me, a pretty girl named Riley.
They talk about her often, and photos remain scattered around the house. I smelled her a bit when I first arrived at my new fur-ever home, though I could tell it had been several months since she’d been around. I can also sense her in a little wooden box with a plaster pawprint that sits in the TV room near Dad’s chair, and a photo of her sits in front. They both look at it lovingly every so often, adding that the picture of a younger Riley was long before her “snow brows” began appearing.
Personally, I don’t have any snowbrows at this point. But Mom and Dad do laugh about the funny little white spot on my nose, which looks like a tiny paint spot. So there’s that.
I know I can’t replace Riley, but I’m very much a loving boy and I’m happy knowing I can help them heal.
In a way, we’re all continuing the story that she began so many years ago. This is just a new chapter of that continuing story.
New #JournoDog chapter
Of course, this new fur-ever home also brings on the joy of being second-ever JournoDog.
In my first weeks, I am learning my Canine AP Styleguide quite nicely. It was a bit tough to focus after that second week, when they took me in for a scary procedure to snip me. We try not to talk about that Day I Lost My Balls, or how they forced me to wear a donut around my neck for the next week. But that’s all behind us now.
I am figuring out what news stories to sniff out, the best leads to unbury and which sources aren’t credible. My Mom and Dad Editors signed me up for Doggo School, and I proudly wore my Direwolf in Training banadana for that six-week course through the I Heart Dogs shelter.
Everyone agrees: I’z a smart boy.
My first days, weeks and months have been productive. They’ve bought me many bandanas and scarfs, and I’ve covered a few big stories early on:
All the Sharks. Early on, something strange known as “Shark Week” took place. It was a bunch of TV shows with sharks, and Dad dressed me up in a shark costume. I reluctantly cooperated. But then, decided to play the part and pretend to be a shark by trying to chew on the costume fin. It went away soon after.
Harry Potter’s birthday weekend. We celebrated this fictional character’s birthday, because Mom is a big fan. They took me on a CAR RIDE that lasted forever, and Mom went inside a local bakery for a themed milkshake while Dad and I covered the scene outside. I even went undercover as “Hairy Paw-ter the Dog,” wearing my “House of Ravinpaws” bandana. Sadly, I didn’t get to try the blue milkshake. But I did poop on an evergreen tree in the park, so that was fun.
Went to my first microbrewery. Mom and Dad drank some beer outside at a fave brewpub, while I sat nearby and enjoyed some refreshing water from my portable bowl. Another hooman also pampered me with love, and I melted into his hands before it was time to go home.
So far, I take two WALKS a day and do my poop-squats at that time. I love belly rubs, and Mom likes to refer to me as a “velcro dog” because I love staying close and cuddling. As everyone described him, I am pretty chill most of the time. Unless I get the “zoomies,” and need to burn off those bursts of energy.
That reminds me, I did my first Zoom call with Dad recently while crate training. He left me in the cage while he left for 25 minutes, and a nearby iPad kept tabs on me. Every so often, I’d whine pitifully to see if it made a difference. It did not. But just before he came home. I heard his voice on the Zoom Pad talking to me. I sat and looked at it, before getting distracted by my yummy bully stick on the floor.
I do have my own squeaky iBone that I like to chew on, and I’ve recently joined many doggo friends (and furry cats) on Tik-Tok. That’s such a time-suck, but we have fun.
Overall, I love my new fur-ever home. This is working out nicely, and I’m happy to have moved to Michigan and found my place here. I also love having a purpose, in sharing truth and making my own little corner of the yard better.
That’s all for now. #JournoDog out.
As always, remember: Love your pets. Read a newspaper. Support local journalism. Be kind to each other, no matter where you come from or how your stories differ. Try to smile and find a little happiness for your heart every day.
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JournoDog Chronicles 