Authors notes: The information on the Canaan Dog was taken word for word from three web sites. For links to these sites please contact me at Ascendk9@AOL.com. Any and all feedback can also be directed there. This is only my second D/M story so be kind.
Direct quotes are indicated by slash marks are are in slightly
lighter black than the rest of the text.
example: // This is out of the breed standard.//
If you would like to see a photo of these
wonderful dogs go to Http://www.cdca.org/gallery/
Standard disclaimer: I do not own Duncan or Methos, but I do own the dog. I am only taking them for a walk and they will be kept on leash (most of the time) and returned in good condition. No animals were harmed in writing of this fan fiction.
Special Thanks and a Milkbone to Tarsh for beta reading this For me.
All mistakes are still mine.
The Canaan Dog
//Typical of the group, they tend to be aloof. Although they are devoted to their families, they maintain a strong flight reflex, "the highly developed caution toward humans that had allowed the breed to survive in its native land for thousands of years." When confronted with a new or bewildering situation, such as a change in homes, dogs may bolt. Pursuit by well-meaning people seems to puzzle rather than frighten them. They are innately capable of caring for themselves in such a situations.\\
Duncan stood fidgeting outside the apartment door, a six-foot leather leash gripped tightly in one hand. All of a sudden this didn't seem to be such a good idea. He loved Methos and wanted to protect him, but his new lover would not allow that. He also was looking for a way to curb the older ones wandering. The dog was actually Joe's idea, Duncan had been leaning towards a one way ticket to Guam.
Squaring his shoulders and mentally reviewing his strategy, he knocked on the door. It opened immediately, Methos had known he was there, of course.
"A dog. MacLeod, what are you doing with a dog?" The oldest immortal stared at the black and white canine whose back just topped the Scotsman's knee.
"You know I am going to be out of town a lot in the next few months. We both know the Watchers are not going to let you fade away quite so easily. Besides, I thought he could keep you company." He led his charge into Methos' small apartment unclipping the six-foot leather lead as he went.
"What are you doing!" Methos made a grab for the black and white canine that evaded his hands easily and shied to one side, observing the two men with lowered head and narrow eyes. "Oh great MacLeod, you bring me a dog who hates me on sight."
"He doesn't hate you Methos, he is just cautious. Give him a chance to get to know you and he will grow to love you." Just like I do, thought Duncan as he reached out to give the old man a hug. Methos evaded his arms and raised both of his in protest.
"No MacLeod, he is not staying here. I don't need a dog. I don't want a dog." The older immortal turned his back and settled straight-backed on the couch. Not in his usual sprawl Duncan noticed. Definitely not a good sign. Time for plan B.
"Just give him a chance Methos, he is not your average house pet." Duncan made his way over to the elder's paper covered desk. Pushing aside a stack of neatly typed sheets he uncovered the computer keyboard. He pulled a small notebook out of his pocket flipped it open to a page of neatly printed figures. "What's your Internet password?"
"Guess." The old mans was leaned back in the cushion, arms folded staring out at the medium sized black and white four-footed creature that was sniffing around his small apartment. With a slight smile Duncan turned back to the computer screen. If he wanted to play games that was OK with him.
"Lets see, Horseman? No, well lets try Death?" No response.
"You're not even close MacLeod." Came a voice from one end of the sofa.
"M.E.T.H.O.S.? 5000?" Frowning the Highlander sat back to think about it for a moment. He had more practice than he wanted at getting inside the old man's head lately. "Immortal? Sword? Blade? Head?"
"Mac, I like my computer." MacLeod looked up meeting his lover's eyes for a moment, detecting a hint of amusement in them and noticing the half sprawl the body on the couch had taken. That was a good sign.
"Fucking?" He ignored the bark of laughter that guess produced. Without saying it out loud he quickly typed in his name, no response. He then tried Highlander, it didn't work. What else is left MacLeod thought to himself, what else did the old man like? A grin lit up his face as he leaned over the keyboard.
"B.E.E.R." The opening screen appeared and a hand holding a can appeared in front of him.
"I'm definitely becoming too predictable." The hand that rested on his shoulder was still slightly chilled from holding the beer. But Mac rubbed his cheek lightly along the top of it anyway. At least he had peaked the old mans interests. Taking a swallow of the password, he put it down safely towards the end of the desk, away from the keyboard, then he propped his notebook up so he could see the web site address he had carefully written down that morning.
"Your mutt is sniffing around the kitchen, are you sure he's housetrained?"
"He's just getting use to the place, you know checking it for escape routes. Ah ha, here look at this." Duncan sat back in the desk chair to give better access to the elder immortal as a photo of a black and white dog similar to the one now nosing around the bookshelves appeared.
//The Canaan Dog, the natural breed of Israel, dates back to pre-biblical times, existing in the "Land of Canaan" where they first originated. Drawings found on the tombs at Beni-Hassan, dating 2200-2000 BC depict dogs which show an unmistakable resemblance to the Canaan Dog of today.\\
"The Canaan Dog?" Methos read over the Scottman's shoulder. He turned his head to gaze into his lover's eyes. "Is that supposed to be a real breed?
Duncan gestured towards the screen, reading aloud. "//The Canaan Dog of Israel is a survivor.\\ Just like a certain immortal I know."
They don't even look like a "real" breed, they look just like hundreds of street dogs I have seen all over the world. Pointed muzzle, prick ears curled tail."
"That's because they're a feral dog, you know there still considered half- wild here read this."
//Born as a herding and flock guardian dog of the ancient Israelites, the breed was consigned to a meager feral existence when the Romans invaded and all but destroyed their homeland more than 2000 years ago. Many of the dogs left civilization to eke out an existence in the country's harsh Negev desert and bleak plains; some remained semi-domesticated as shepherds and guardians for Bedouin tribes or guards for the Druze religious sect on Mt. Carmel.\\
"It also means they can blend in anywhere, they don't stand out like
a shepherd or Doberman would. They look
like, well, just a dog."
//The essential characteristics of the Canaan Dog are those which have enabled them to survive for centuries in the desert. The Canaan Dog gives the impression of elegance, but is sufficiently substantial to stand up to jackals, hyenas, and wolves. \\
MacLeod took a sip of his beer, leaning back to look into the hazel eyes of his lover. Elegant, substantial and he has stood up to more then his share of jackals, hyenas, and wolves.
//They are intelligent and adaptable to wide extremes of lifestyle and climate. \\
That seemed to have caught the old man's attention, so Duncan repeated softly. "Adaptable to wide extremes of lifestyle and climate. See Methos, he should have no trouble adjusting to your migratory lifestyle." Or as Mac hoped keep him in one place for a while.
//The dog looks like an athlete and moves with strong reach and drive in a tireless trot - structure and movement that assure survival in the desert and versatility in the home and kennel. He is nimble.\\
Duncan moved out of the comfortably desk chair, watching the elder immortal nimbly twist his slight frame between the desk and the chair to settle effortlessly into the space vacated by the highlander. His eyes glued to the screen he barely noticed the Scotsman reading over his shoulder, one hand resting on his shoulder. Duncan's hand lightly stroked his lover's neck long fingers gently rubbing his shoulders as he read out loud
//"The Canaan Dog is alert, loyal, and affectionate to his family and watchful and aloof with strangers. " \\
The incident with the Watchers last month had really unnerved him. Stopping by the old man's apartment on his way back from class late one night. He had found Methos' front door unlocked and surprised three thieves. One of them had a tattoo on his wrist and carried a sword. Luckily the elder immortal had stayed late at Joe's that evening.
//The character of the Canaan Dog is based on their instinct for survival and sense of territoriality. They are extremely vigilant and alert, quick to react; distrustful of strangers, both human and animal; and strongly defensive but not naturally aggressive\\
He wanted Methos to have someone around to watch his back. The old man wouldn't even install a burglar alarm much less move to a better part of town. He insisted on staying in this cheap one bedroom apartment that still had Adam Pierson's name on the mailbox.
"Mac, I won't let you fight my battles for me, what makes you think I would let a dog?"
"He won't Love, keep reading." He known Methos' pride wouldn't allow him to accept an attack dog. He had spent hours researching breeds to find the right one for him.
//Their first reaction, when confronted with an intruder is not to attack but to stay out of reach and bark continuously.\\
"See Methos he won't fight your battles for you just warn you that someone is around. An immortal you can sense but mortal watchers could have a sword to your throat before you know it. Too many watchers know who you are." The break in last month had shaken him badly, the fact that Methos refused to take it seriously didn't help. He pointed back to the computer screen.
//Survival, in the wild, meant being alert and cautious. Canaans are always 100% aware of their surroundings. This can cause them to appear distracted.\\
He watched as Methos' lips pursed and the elder one took a sip of his beer then turned his head as he heard a slight scraping sound. He looked up from the computer to see their four footed houseguest standing front feet on the window sill ears pricked forward gazing intently out the window sweeping the street below with a long measured stare as if memorizing the view.
//They constantly watch, listen, and smell their surroundings, evaluating for possible threat or opportunity.\\
He knew that Methos would be evaluating the situation plotting and scheming to refuse his gift and make him feel guilty about it. Well, this time he had done some scheming of his own.
"Mac, I don't have time for a dog. You know how dependent they get, following you around wanting to sleep on your bed. Wanting you to throw a ball, walk them or play with them all the time." MacLeod tapped the mouse a few times and pointed back to the computer screen.
//The natural qualities of the Canaan Dog are assets to domestic life. He is an affectionate, devoted companion who develops a strong but not overly dependent attachment to his owners. He's not a follower; he does not need constant attention or reassurance and thus he may not be suitable for a family that enjoys close contact with an attentive pet.\\
"Ok, but I still don't have room for a dog, look around you Mac, I don't exactly have a yard he can go play in. It's not fair to the animal to keep him cooped up in here." Duncan nodded as he replied to the elder's objection. This objection he had planned for, hoped for.
"When I'm home I will take him with me on my morning run and he doesn't need all that much exercise anyway." Maybe it would encourage the other immortal to get off his duff and come with him.
//Canaan Dogs are very athletic and agile and love a good run, but, surprisingly, in the house they will curl up quietly and will happily be couch potatoes if you let them. He does not require an excessive amount of exercise.\\
"The loft has a small yard and the park is near by. He could be the dojo's mascot, he would fit right in." And so could you Duncan added slightly to him self, his hand lightly kneading the smaller man's shoulder. He turned his lover's head to point out the pet in question lightly jumping onto the couch, watching as he circled once and spread out in a sprawl that took up over half of the available space. With a sigh he rested his head on the armrest, hazel eyes focused on the two men near the desk.
"MacLeod, he's getting hair all over the furniture." Methos twisted in the chair to glare up at the Highlander. "I am not cleaning that up!"
"I will buy him his own bed" If you will share mine, Duncan thought. "Besides, the couch came with the apartment." It can stay here when you move in with me. "Here read about their history, not as complete as a chronicle but it is interesting"
//The Canaan Dog is an ancient breed resembling the wild dog type which has survived in Israel through at least 4,000 years of history. Canaan Dogs are pariah dogs which live on the fringes of civilization and are frequently used by the Bedouin as flock and camp guardians.\\
"Not that I am interested but what's his name?" Methos was eyeing the medium sized canine laid out on his couch. Duncan inwardly cheered.
"He has a long boring registered name, that's a matter of public record, but you need to give him a call name. A name that only you and his closest friends will know him by."
//In 1934, Dr. Rudolf and Prof. Rudolphina Menzel immigrated to Israel, then known as Palestine. They undertook the study of pariah dogs and the Canaan Dog in particular, becoming the driving force behind its preservation. Prof. Menzel bred and trained Canaan Dogs, primarily for military work. In 1965, Prof. Menzel exported four Canaan Dogs to the United States where they became the foundation stock for American and Canadian Canaan Dogs. \\
"They have been around almost as long as you have, old man. Hiding out in the desert, away from people. Running wild till someone came along who loved them enough to tame them."
//Canaan Dog is a survivor because of his self-reliance and his adaptability. He is not a dog for everyone. His independence requires that his owner be loving but firmly in charge.\\
"Methos, I have to keep my business going and will be out of the country a lot in the next three months. I worry about you when I am not here." He ran his hand down the elder's arm, taking control of the mouse.
//Canaan Dogs are extraordinarily devoted and amenable to training but consider themselves the equal of those with whom they live. \\
"I haven't owned a dog for centuries, I wouldn't know what to do with one." Long pale fingers covered his on the computer mouse, stopping the scrolling screen.
//Canaan Dogs seem to evaluate each and every command with by asking themselves the question, "What's in it for me?" \\
"Mac, dogs don't live that long, as soon as I get attached he'll be dead." Like Alexa he could almost hear him say. Duncan paged down the screen.
// This breed matures slowly both physically and mentally and individual dogs may not reach their prime until as late as four years of age. They have been known to live into their late teens and early twenties.\\
"Look, here is the breed standard. Let's see how he measures up."
//Neck - Well arched. Balance to body and head and free from throatiness.\\
MacLeod found his hands lightly stroking the soft pale skin of his lover's neck making forages to the sensitive spots behind Methos' ears.
// Ears - Erect, medium to large, set moderately low, broad at the base, tapering to a very slightly rounded tip. Ears angled very slightly forward when excited. Ear motion contributes to expression and clearly defines the mood of the dog.\\
Methos' head pressed against his hand as he made tiny Circles, with his fingers around and inside the soft petal shaped external of the eldest's auditory apparatus.
//The Head Elongated, the length exceeding the breadth and depth considerably. Wedge-shaped, when viewed from above. The region of the forehead is of medium width, but appearing broader through ears set low to complete an alert expression, with a slight furrow between the eyes. \\
Almost unconsciously Methos was pushing back over the top of the office chair rubbing the back of his head against Duncan's waist. Close, very close to the growing hardness in his jeans. His left hand moved to rub the top of the elder's head, fingers tangling in the soft short hair that his lover preferred.
//Length of coat 1/2 to 1-1/2 inches; longer on ruff and back of thighs, shorter on body, legs, and head. Undercoat - straight, soft, short, flat-lying, density varying with climate. Whisker trimming optional\\
Duncan bent down to claim a kiss from his distracted lover. His mouth gazed the familiar face, rubbing at the tiny hairs on the cheek and chin. Methos hadn't shaved yet today. His lips made their way to the matching pair that opened slightly for his probing tongue. He tasted of beer, pizza and his own spicy almond taste that Duncan had grown to love.
//Eyes - Dark, almond shaped, slightly slanted. Varying shades of hazel Nose - Darkly pigmented or varying shades of liver, harmonizing with coat color. \\
Duncan bit down lightly, catching the elder's lower lip between his teeth, eliciting a low moan. His hands spread over the strong shoulders traveling downward to brush against an erect nipple.
//Lips - Tight with good pigmentation. Bite - Scissors.\\
His tongue glided over Methos' teeth tasting pepperoni and cheese, forcing open his mouth and pressing hard he probed the warm wetness.
//Shoulders moderately angulated. . Chest - Moderately broad and deep, extending to the elbows, with well-sprung ribs.\\
With a well-practiced motion Duncan pulled off his lover's sweater, turning him half away from the still scrolling computer screen. Exposing the muscles of his hard, lean, pale torso.
// Body - Strong, displaying athletic agility and trimness Topline - Level with slight arch over the loins. \\
Methos' eyes were still focused on the flickering screen, his hands resting lightly on the keyboard as Duncan moved to tug off his sweat pants exposing the rest of his well formed body. His hardening organ betraying his feigned indifference to the Highlander's ministrations.
//Hindquarters Moderately angulated. In balance with forequarters. Straight when viewed from the rear. Thigh musculature well developed, moderately broad. Hocks well let down.\\
Duncan knelt down allowing his hands to caress the elder immortal's muscular calves and thighs, stroking the tiny hairs there. He noticed the quick intake of breath from his lover and the slight tremor in the hands on the keyboard.
//Loin - well tucked up. Short, muscled flanks. Legs straight. Pasterns flexible with very slight slope when viewed from the side. \\
With one hand Duncan unbuttoned his jeans allowing a little extra room for his own hardness as his other hand made it's way closer to his lover's cock. He lowered his head licking lightly at the junction between his thighs and torso. He dropped his hands to his lover's feet rubbing his thumbs into the soles, putting pressure on age-old spots. The pale thick-skinned heel flexed in his hands.
// Feet - Catlike, pads hard, pigmentation harmonizing with nose and eye rims. Nails strong, hard, pigmentation harmonizing with either nose and eye rims or coat.\\
Still keeping one hand on the warming pale body in front of him Duncan pulled off his own shirt, and tugged his jeans to the floor. Revealing his own state of readiness.
//Expression - Alert, watchful, and inquisitive. Dignified. \\
The expression filtering across Methos' face was an attempt at being dignified. But the engorged, weeping cock in front of him spoke of his true state of mind. The computer screen had stopped scrolling.
All deviations from the standard of the breed. All faults in the body structure which constitute a deviation from the norm of a well built dog. Anything which would detract from his potential for survival as a desert animal. Male animals should have two apparently nominal testicles fully descended into the scrotum.\\
The Highlander's hand gently stroked his lover's body tensely, tickling the sensitive area under his balls. Then cupping them with a firm squeeze, he rolled the hard nuggets between his fingers, smiling at his lover's reaction. Methos was no longer looking at the computer screen. His eyes were tight and focused on the man kneeling between his legs. His hands gripping the armrests of the desk chair. Duncan stroked his lover's growing hardness, allowing one thumb to flicker over the weeping head before lowering his head to engulf the straining rod in his mouth. Methos let out a half moan as his lips and tongue found a favorite rhythm. Then he did cry out, in protest, as Duncan suddenly stood looking down on the lean pale skinned man reclining in the desk chair.
//Though wary and somewhat aloof with strangers, Canaan Dogs are very loving with their family and really enjoy being stroked and cuddled.\\
"So you'll keep him? Dark eyes met and held lighter hazel ones for a moment and then Methos looked away towards the sleeping figure on his couch. When they returned to his they were gold with passion.
"Yes, for a while." He had won, he had found a crack in the shield his ancient lover keep around his heart. Methos had accepted his symbol of protection.
Reaching out a hand he pulled the smaller man out of the chair into a tight warm embrace and passionate kiss. There lips locked they stumbled towards the bedroom.
//This handsome, versatile dog appeals to those who have respect for a natural dog with an impeccable ability to survive and a loyalty given by choice .\\
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