Cats and Dogs I Have Known - Part 2
DOGS
It's every child's dream to have a pet. We've all told our parents that we'd be responsible. I'll feed him everyday. I'll clean up after him. You won't have to do a thing. Yeah....I said it. My children said it. I knew better. As I mentioned in part one of this series, I was a cat person and not a fan of dogs. I blame my wife for most of our dog trials. The first dog belonged to Payne and came home with him from a preschool field trip to Sunshine Farms (which she chaperoned). He named this St. Benard mixed mutt, Gladys, after Gladys Herdmann in "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever". A few weeks later I was on my way home to Columbus from Chattanooga when I received a phone call from Sue about a birthday party the kids were at where they had puppies and naturally they had to bring one home. So Sassy entered the picture and just like that we had two dogs. But it wasn't too long until the adorable puppies became big dogs who couldn't be contained by a fence. My summer intern, JK Southerland, had the honor of accompanying Sue and the dogs to the animal shelter (which she has never quite forgiven me for that task).
Shortly thereafter I was ambushed with the need for a pure breed pug which was soon purchased and named Prissy. I must say, she had to be the dumbest and most worthless dog I ever saw. Take her outside and the minute she came back in she'd relieve herself. She was soon given away to an older couple who hopefully had more patience than I had. My dislike for dogs had not changed any.
The turning point came in 2001 when we moved from Columbus, MS, to Brownsville, TN. To help my 11 year old son, Payne, make this difficult transition, our new friend Allen Watts gave him a black lab puppy. Tracker quickly won our hearts and became a part of the family despite those first few rocky years when he chewed up every pair of shoes I had not to mention window sills, any tree branch lower than five feet to the ground, and the front wooden posts on our front porch. Like a beaver, he completely stripped a cypress tree until it was just a trunk. He was the best watchdog ever and for the most part stayed within the confines of our underground electric fence. I was slowly turning to the other side and growing in my fondness for dogs.
Within a year of moving to Brownsville, we had the privilege of adopting a five year old Schnauzer, Sam, whose elderly owner had passed away. The Stewart family entrusted him with us and He immediately took over our house and became my dog and constant companion. I still consider Sam the greatest dog that ever lived. He was grumpy, set in his way, a constant flight risk, and didn't like to be held. He could tear up a trash can in a matter of minutes when left alone. But he loved to go for rides in the car and sometimes would be content just sitting inside the car parked in the driveway. He was most famous for putting an entire donut in his mouth which he had dug out of the trash and hid the rest of them under Mary Paige's bed. He also enjoyed sneaking into the kids' valentine's candy and unwrapping Reese's peanut butter cups and eating them. I hate to say this, but he was also a racist. Despite that fault, he made up for it in many other ways. After a stroke a couple of years ago, I took him for a final ride to the vet, said goodbye and petted him as he took his final breath. I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried on and off all day long and it was a long time before the void of his absence went away.
At that sad point in time, Mary Paige and Sue decided it would be a good thing to let Tracker in the house to become our house dog, a task the 120 pound dog more than happily accepted. 9 years outside was quickly forgotten as he discovered the joys of carpeting, air conditioning, and mattresses. At 12 years old, he is as much a part of our house as our furniture.
The final entrant in the parade of dogs, was a rescue from a local shelter. Mary Paige was determined to have a lap dog and fell in love with a jet black, schnauzer//yorkie/terrier/heinz57 mutt named Stormie. Truly the most loving dog you've ever seen, she can also be the most annoying. She has never slept a night on the floor, choosing our bed and always touching some part of your body. Words cannot describe the antics of this dog. I constantly remind her that she is not Sam, but she has weaseled her way into our hearts.
But big dog and little dog coexist happily and play together and live for their daily pop tart. Yes, pop tarts. The big dog takes his pills in a pop tart and Stormie gets one as well. Not the healthiest choice, but it has its purpose.
So that's the story of dogs in our family. I don't know why I felt compelled to write this cats and dogs episode, but I felt you needed to know. My next post will return us back to the random thoughts of life that you, gentle readers, have come to expect.
It's every child's dream to have a pet. We've all told our parents that we'd be responsible. I'll feed him everyday. I'll clean up after him. You won't have to do a thing. Yeah....I said it. My children said it. I knew better. As I mentioned in part one of this series, I was a cat person and not a fan of dogs. I blame my wife for most of our dog trials. The first dog belonged to Payne and came home with him from a preschool field trip to Sunshine Farms (which she chaperoned). He named this St. Benard mixed mutt, Gladys, after Gladys Herdmann in "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever". A few weeks later I was on my way home to Columbus from Chattanooga when I received a phone call from Sue about a birthday party the kids were at where they had puppies and naturally they had to bring one home. So Sassy entered the picture and just like that we had two dogs. But it wasn't too long until the adorable puppies became big dogs who couldn't be contained by a fence. My summer intern, JK Southerland, had the honor of accompanying Sue and the dogs to the animal shelter (which she has never quite forgiven me for that task).
Shortly thereafter I was ambushed with the need for a pure breed pug which was soon purchased and named Prissy. I must say, she had to be the dumbest and most worthless dog I ever saw. Take her outside and the minute she came back in she'd relieve herself. She was soon given away to an older couple who hopefully had more patience than I had. My dislike for dogs had not changed any.
The turning point came in 2001 when we moved from Columbus, MS, to Brownsville, TN. To help my 11 year old son, Payne, make this difficult transition, our new friend Allen Watts gave him a black lab puppy. Tracker quickly won our hearts and became a part of the family despite those first few rocky years when he chewed up every pair of shoes I had not to mention window sills, any tree branch lower than five feet to the ground, and the front wooden posts on our front porch. Like a beaver, he completely stripped a cypress tree until it was just a trunk. He was the best watchdog ever and for the most part stayed within the confines of our underground electric fence. I was slowly turning to the other side and growing in my fondness for dogs.
At that sad point in time, Mary Paige and Sue decided it would be a good thing to let Tracker in the house to become our house dog, a task the 120 pound dog more than happily accepted. 9 years outside was quickly forgotten as he discovered the joys of carpeting, air conditioning, and mattresses. At 12 years old, he is as much a part of our house as our furniture.
The final entrant in the parade of dogs, was a rescue from a local shelter. Mary Paige was determined to have a lap dog and fell in love with a jet black, schnauzer//yorkie/terrier/heinz57 mutt named Stormie. Truly the most loving dog you've ever seen, she can also be the most annoying. She has never slept a night on the floor, choosing our bed and always touching some part of your body. Words cannot describe the antics of this dog. I constantly remind her that she is not Sam, but she has weaseled her way into our hearts.
But big dog and little dog coexist happily and play together and live for their daily pop tart. Yes, pop tarts. The big dog takes his pills in a pop tart and Stormie gets one as well. Not the healthiest choice, but it has its purpose.
So that's the story of dogs in our family. I don't know why I felt compelled to write this cats and dogs episode, but I felt you needed to know. My next post will return us back to the random thoughts of life that you, gentle readers, have come to expect.
Beth has turned me into a dog person as well although we have a cat too. She is 14 years old and her name is Maddie. We have two Yorkies and they are such good dogs. They do not try to run away and are really good watch dogs. Good post!
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