German Shepherds
I really like German Shepherds because I grew up with a wonderful one on the farm in Ohio.
She was the runt of the litter, and like Sgt-Marks-a-Lot's, Queenie, was small for the breed.
Her name was Freida. She followed my brother and me around everywhere. Was a great baby sitter. She was very gentle with women and children, but she HATED men!
We lived back a long lane, with no neighbors in sight. The nearest one was at the end of our lane, six-tenths of a mile away. Many times, salesmen, or maybe they were serial murders, who could tell, would drive back to our house, get out of their car, and Frieda, without touching them, would scare them to death with her aggressive barking and growling. I remember seeing many strange men clambering onto the roofs of their cars!
I wanted to buy a German Shepherd for the farm in France, but the Husband has an aversion to les bergers allemands . . .too many World War II movies. So that's why we ended up with Australian Shepherds, they remind me of German Shepherds, but they don't remind the Husband of German Shepherds . . . a brilliant compromise.
When I was a kid, on summer Sundays, my parents would have picnics for several families that attended Sacred Heart Catholic Church. One picnic, my father was out in the sheep shed showing the visitors the new lambs. One of the men started joking with his wife and pushing her around. My father could tell that Frieda was getting upset so he told the husband he better stop fooling around.
The husband ignored my father's advice. Frieda without barking, took a giant leap and knocked the man to the ground and stood on him. Everyone, except the jokester, had a big laugh. The floor of a sheep shed is pretty messy!
posted by Libby @ 1:36 PM
1 Comments:
Libby, Another great dog story. It helps me deal with my loss, thanks.
When my previous baby, MacTavish, had to be put to sleep - he was 18 and had cancer, I cried for days and vowed I would never have another dog. I was resolute, until six months later when I went into the pet shop to buy food for the cats. Holmes, and his brother were running around on the floor. Holmes saw me and ran over to jump at my knees. It was love at first sight, for both of us. They assured me he was a cross between a Sheltie and a terrier, and wouldn't get much bigger. I took him home, and the two kids fell in love with him. They argued so much over him, that I went back two days later and picked up his brother, Watson. Why not? Two small dogs are no more bother than one - or so I thought.
Holmes got deathly ill with roundworm. He almost died. I had to nurse him, hand feeding him and carrying him outside daily, for fresh air and relief. He slept beside me, so I would awaken if he was in distress. We truly bonded. Holmes and Watson just kept growing and growing, and they were boisterous boys. In the middle of one night, I awoke to the sound of growling and a yipping squeal. At this point, Watson was much larger than Holmes, and had a habit of picking on his brother. I guess Holmes had reached his breaking point, and had taken a bite out of Watson's shoulder, ripping through the muscle almost to the bone. Several hundred dollars later, I found a home for Watson, and Holmes, the cats, the kids and I settled in for many happy years. The other night, my son went to take Holmes out, and couldn't get him to stand up. There had been no prior indication that anything was wrong, and he was fully awake, but he wouldn't move. His abdomen was extended. It was Sunday around 9:30PM, so I called the vet and was referred to an emergency clinic. When we got there, they saw him immediately, gave him a shot for the pain, xrayed him, then gave me the bad news. He had a tumour on his spleen that had been growing for awhile and finally burst. They could remove the spleen, but he would only live for a couple of months because the cancer was the type that spreads rapidly. He had been in so much pain, yet he never whimpered even when we carried him out to the car and into the clinic. He never snapped at anyone in the clinic. I think he knew he was dying and wanted to spare us. My son and I stayed with him till the end, rubbing his head and telling him how much we loved him.
It was heart breaking, but it was the best we could do for him. Funny how they worm their way into your heart and become so beloved. I don't regret going into that pet store, because he brought me so many years of love and companionship. I miss him terribly.
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