Monday, May 19, 2014
He was my wife and I's first dog. A German Shepard/Irish Setter/Chow mix. Smart as a whip and a ferocious teddy bear. Anyone or thing that entered his backyard without prior written permission died. I regularly removed birds and squirrels and cats that did not have the proper documentation. Yet he would let my cousins crawl over him like a jungle gym. They could even touch his food while he was eating and he wouldn't mind. He'd just look up at them as if to say "Hey not done!"
One day he ran at the gate and the wind blew it open for him.
He stood straining on his leash just outside the fence, basking in his new found freedom I would suppose.
The gate rebounded and slammed shut on his leash.
Its been 20 years and I still miss that big lug.
mentally regurgitated by ZomBee