Hey ,

One piece of feedback I got from my editor on Nova's Tale was that she was a little concerned with how obsessed I was with his balls. Not that I was obsessed with his actual balls but more so the fact that everyone seemed to think it was a good idea to cut them off. I'd like to think that her alarm was largely due to the fact that she has never had balls and so therefore couldn't possibly relate. Or maybe she had a point.

Either way, it was a big deal for me. In chapter 10 of Nova's Tale I come head to, uh, balls? with this issue. There we were, living our best lives, a couple of young dudes just going about their business when all of the sudden everyone is talking about removing my best friends cherries. Did I panic? Absolutely. What happened? Well read about it below in Chapter 10!

If you missed the last chapter you can get caught up here and you can now buy Nova's Tale as an e-book or a paperback by following this link here. Thanks for your support and enjoy!

Chapter 10

Nova's Balls

When we took Nova home from Lynda’s we were given a puppy pack. Contained within were some toys that he could really care less about, food, treats, and a binder full of information. It has Nova’s family history dating back more generations than I could track my own lineage, specific information on his two parents and all of their qualifications, and lots of general information about German Shepherds in general. There is also our hip contract with Lynda. 

German Shepherds, along with most other large breeds of dogs, often suffer from a condition called hip dysplasia. The condition is associated with abnormal joint structure in the hips or elbows of a dog. This is often amplified by poor connective tissue and weak muscles in the offending area. In the short term this means discomfort for the dog. They end up splaying their legs abnormally to compensate for their weak hips. This develops an improper gate and they start hopping their back legs instead of running normally. The long term effects are painful arthritis which can shorten your companion’s life considerably in their later years. 

There are two leading causes of hip dysplasia, the first being hereditary. If both parents of a puppy have bad hips you can’t be surprised when the puppy has bad hips. It seems silly because it’s so preventable, but this is one of the main causes of hip dysplasia. There are lots of people breeding dogs in their backyard with no professional knowledge of the trade. Any breeder you go to should be able to provide you hip scores of the sire and dam of your pup to ensure your pup has the best chance of avoiding hip dysplasia. 

The second cause is over activity combined with hyper growth and over eating in the first year of a puppy’s life. During the first 12-14 months your puppy has a lot of growing to do. If you put excessive pressure on those little growing bones and joints by making your puppy jump in and out of cars, run up and down stairs, or take part in excessive bouts of exercise, they are much more likely to fail. Combine that with a puppy that is growing too fast and weighing too much and it’s a good recipe for hip dysplasia. 

Our hip contract with Lynda said that she would guarantee Nova’s hips based on his parents if we guaranteed that we would keep his weight within an acceptable range, keep him off stairs for the first 6 months, and keep him from jumping in and out of trucks/cars etc… If we manage to do this and he still has poor hips at 12 months of age, Lynda will either give us a new puppy or refund the cost of Nova. 

At the end of the day it’s a ridiculous guarantee. No one in their right mind would send back a puppy, regardless of what conditions it had. But it shows Lynda’s commitment to her work and also worked to impress upon us the severity of taking care of Nova’s hips. 

So for the first 6 months of his life Nova got a free ride up and down stairs. He wasn’t allowed to hike up Castle Hill with us. He got lifted in and out of the car and he would be fed only what we had in his written diet even though he would make sure we knew he could eat more. A lot more.

We also had to have him weighed periodically to make sure he was staying within his specified weight range. We would do this every time we visited the vet. 

Our first visit to Bowen Road Vets was a good one. We met Yvette who thrilled both Nova and his parents by fawning over him for a good few minutes and going on about what a beautiful boy he was. Nova weighed in underweight which was no surprise to anyone as he was definitely a skinny boy. Yvette suggested that we think about feeding him a bit more. He is growing a lot, she told us, and could use a few extra pounds. 

She also casually mentioned that he’ll need a bit more fat on him for the anaesthetic to work properly when we de-sex him. 

De-sexing. 

My man-parts instinctively wince at the word. Neutering Nova was something Danielle and I had always assumed we would do but this was different. Now I was looking down at this little black and gold face that only ever stared at me now with trust and adoration. This wasn’t a speculative puppy or a photo on some facebook page. This was my boy. This was Nova. And we’re talking about cutting off his balls! 

Yvette showed me that his little testicles had both properly descended and, with reluctance, I felt under his tail. Sure enough, there they were. Two tiny little balls. Nova was completely oblivious to our conversation and was just happy to be the centre of attention. Yvette could sense my discomfort and so she assured me that de-sexing was the responsible thing to do. Dogs that are left intact are constantly looking to conquer more territory, to spread their seed, and if another dog in your neighbourhood is in heat you can build a fence as high as you want but love will find a way. De-sexed dogs are calmer, cheaper to insure, and the operation has no ill effects on the dog’s personality. 

We left the vet and I was starting to be convinced. I didn’t like it, the thought of it made me queasy, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. Of course we had thought about breeding Nova – he was, like I’m sure your dog was, perfect after all. Except that with that long coat he would only be desirable to pet breeders and most breeders bred to show. We both knew deep down that we wouldn’t be breeding him. So it was just down to my own personal qualms with de-sexing my best friend. 

That week I took Nova out to the field by our house. We were slowly getting to know our neighbours and their dogs more closely. Dave lived around the corner with his wife Luna and their dog Gizmo, a Ridgeback cross. Felicity lived two doors down from us and had two dogs: Madge, a German Shepherd cross, and Ralphie, a white fluffy thing. 

Nova and Gizmo had met when Nova was first brought home and Dave had always been a bit hesitant to let them play together. Apparently Gizmo doesn’t get along too well with longer-haired dogs. With Nova being just a puppy though Gizmo turned out to be more tolerant than we expected. They soon became great friends and would end up being inseparable field buddies. Madge, Nova, and Gizmo would all line up and chase balls together while Ralphie hung out with us and chewed on the grass. Dave and I would talk rugby and Felicity would fill us in on the goings on of the street. 

It was nice. 

The whole crew was out in the field on this occasion and as the dogs played and chased the rugby ball, I relayed my de-sexing woes to my neighbours. They both assured me that their dogs had all been de-sexed and had not suffered from it at all. I kept my eye on Dave, waiting for some wink or slight shake of the head. Some small signal to say: “Don’t do it, man! It’s a trap – don’t listen to the women!”. But nothing came. 

I kicked the ball for the dogs and out of the bushes exploded another, bigger dog. He was running at full stride and was soon followed by an athletic looking fellow holding a leash. No one seemed concerned. 

“Crash!” the man yelled at the dog with no visible effect. 

He quickly introduced himself to me as another neighbour. I didn’t catch his name as I was busy watching Nova and Crash dance around each other. Crash was another mixed breed but he looked to have some mastiff in him. He was big. He was really big. 

Nova and Crash circled each other and it was obvious that Nova was the smaller of the two. Crash ran at him and Nova immediately rolled onto his back. Crash sniffed and licked and got to know this newcomer and then they were off to the races, chasing each other around the field and playing like dogs do. Every once in a while Crash would get a little too close to Nova for Nova’s own comfort. Nova would get nervous and lay down and submit. As an owner it pained me to see. It’s all my own arrogance, my own insecurity, I knew that – but I still didn’t like to see him roll over and submit. 

As Nova laid there in the field and let Crash have his way with him something caught my eye. There they were, poking out below his furry little bum while his tail laid sideways. They sat there with the promise of what they could be. Containing all that is Nova. The source of power for any male. Two furry little balls. 

I felt a minor panic in my chest. I gathered Nova up and took him home where we sat down in the living room. 

“Alright buddy,” I said to him, “We’ve got to figure this one out.” 

He looked up at me with trust and adoration. 

“Don’t worry,” I assured him, “I’m not going to let anyone take your balls…” 

And we set to work on a plan.

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