9 Shiba Inu Gift Ideas for Christmas and the Holidays
What does a fox say? We’re not sure — and we don’t care. What we do care about is that people don’t think our Shiba Inu dogs are foxes! We’ve assembled a list of Shiba Inu gift ideas for fans of the breed. Click an image below to purchase at Amazon.com, save 20% on Shiba Inu mugs by using coupon code BLACKFRIDAY, or visit the official I’m Not a Fox store to order via Zazzle.
As you know by now, Hurricane Sandy ripped through the Northeast and left an abundance of destruction in her wake. While not an easy time for most, I’m pleased to report that Kenji and the family he owns made it through AOK. The storm forced us to move temporarily to a safer location that had power. That meant 10 days at his grandpaw and grandmaw’s house. Below is an account from someone who loves Kenji as much as I do, my dad.
A Royal Visit
For all he knew, the houseguest may well have thought that he was rocketing through time and space, ready to land in a new galaxy, an unexplored universe. That he might never see his loving family again or return to the only home he had ever known. Who could blame him, especially since the sky, the night he arrived, was awash with rain, and almost ethereal pops of the whitest, strangest light. It’s what the weather folks call ‘arcs.’
The storm innocuously named ‘Sandy’ gouged its way through much of the New York metro area. People whose houses hadn’t been destroyed, or even severely damaged, were still stuck. Once they lost power, and some even running water, their homes became uninhabitable shells, feudal in their cold, medieval in their darkness. My son and his family were among them.
It was a time that called for the lucky among us to open our doors, and hearts to those in need. None was needier, or finer than the perfect gentleman, who despite his youth became our houseguest. He never monopolized the bathroom, didn’t complain about his meals, or demand fresh sheets every day. He didn’t even request a room with a better view.
That’s because our houseguest was Kenji.
If the three-year-old could speak, the first thing he’d say would be “I’m a Shiba Inu, NOT a fox.” So the night that my son brought him to us, Kenji entered cautiously, quietly padding around the entire place. He sniffed here and gazed there, alert for any aliens. He found three of them; Jack, Callie and Penny. These were the cats whose home he would peacefully share for the next 10 days.
Kenji never whimpered or whined about what had to be a momentous change to his previously tranquil life. With the regal bearing, and intelligence of his breed, he adapted to his temporary home better than most people would. I know a helluva lot better than I would. With his large liquid brown almond-shaped eyes and black button nose, the 30 pound ruddy orange Kenji has the kind of face that’s at once as friendly as it is alert. He graced our home with his presence and decorated it with his beauty. Sure he did the things that all dogs do, but I can’t help but feel that he did them better, with a style and a grace that was almost cat-like.
I know that Kenji enjoyed his romps in Cunningham Park, patrolling its lanes and running in its fields. Even many passersby, well-known for their reticence stopped to say ‘hi’ to him, invariably asking what kind of dog or (excuse me, Kenji) fox he is. Yet the best time was in the evening, when Kenji was up for belly rubs and having his soft pointed ears stroked.
If anyone needs to say thanks, it’s us. It was our privilege to have a Red Prince share our home; even if it was just for 10 days. But that’s what Kenji ‘brings to the table;’ he makes people happy. How many of us can make the same claim?
As a Shiba Inu owner who lives in the New York area, I do not have the good fortune to have a huge backyard or live in walking distance to a park. That means Kenji and I take 4 or 5 walks on a daily basis, the majority of which, are in front of people’s houses.
Both #1s and #2s end up on the front strip of grass that sits in front of suburban homes after the sidewalk. I clean up Kenji’s mess 100% of the time (OK, so maybe there was the one time I forgot a bag!).
The other morning I had a neighbor ask me to keep Kenji off “their” lawn. It was 6:15 in the morning and I was in no mood to explain to the person that in our town, that strip of grass is actually government property, it does not belong to the homeowner.
I have no interest in getting embroiled in a debate. And luckily, in this instance, the homeowner was relatively polite about it.
It initially pissed me off, but when I think about how many houses we pass on a daily basis, it is remarkable how few people complain.
I will respect his wishes and do my best to avoid his property. I will also mourn the fact that he is so concerned with his blades of dying autumn grass.
For three years now Kenji and I have had to endure the maddening daily occurrence of being told, “He looks like a fox.”
I admit that a shiba and a fox can have similar characteristics: long narrow snout, bushy tail. So yes, at first glance, the comparison is fair. But what gets us is people’s inherent need to make the comment, as if they’ve uncovered some fact that we’re unaware of.
What do they expect? For us to be surprised? Thank them for the information?
We appreciate the attention, but for the record, Kenji is not a fox. And I am not some madman who has decided to domesticate a wild animal in my suburban New York home.
Thanks for saying ‘hello,’ dear stranger, but you can keep your fox comments to yourself.
Regular readers might have noticed the recent domain change; My First Shiba has become I’m Not a Fox. Kenji is here to tell the world: I AM NOT A FOX!
It was bound to happen. An accident. Of the #2 variety.
Poor Kenji must have gotten his grubby mouth on something yucky, because last Saturday, the doggy left a steaming pile - on the carpet - in the bedroom.
When I walked in Kenji was SUPER excited to see me. He was jumping up and down and barking. It was like the greetings I used to get when he was a puppy, before he turned into a lazy snob. Once we got outside and he conducted his business immediately, I knew something was up. He wasn’t excited for me!
Upon returning to the house, when I hit the top step — the smell hit me! YUCK!
I felt terrible. We were out for a pretty long stretch, and knowing Kenji and his coprophobia, I’m sure he waited until the bitter end to release.
The good news is that he bounced back nicely the next day.