Many a Dog Story

Each dog story is different. Some dogs we are naturally in sync with, while others...well let’s just say we can butt heads a bit. In retrospect, it’s rather funny, or sweet, or sad, or heartwarming and I present some of my dog stories here for your enjoyment, amusement, and occasionally to tug on your heartstrings.

Before I describe each dog story, I'll tell you a little about my life before dogs. My love of dogs started when I was a kid. I watched old reruns of Rin-Tin-Tin and Lassie and longed for that perfect dog. I knew not all dogs were that perfect, but mine would be because I had a heart as big as a freight train and I'd love them so much, they would understand. And they in turn would be perfect dogs because they loved me too. (Are you laughing yet?)

But that best family dog would have to wait. No matter how much I pleaded, no matter how many strays I brought home, and no matter how much I cried - my parents would not let me have a dog. Mom said five kids was enough work for her and Dad would have had a stroke if a dog pooped in his backyard golfing area complete with the putting green and sand trap he made us meticulously tend.

No matter. I held tight to that dream and nothing could change it. In the meantime I would love other dogs.

The only dog allowed in our house was Tina. The pampered miniature poodle of my parents friend, Hilda. Tina was always meticulously groomed. Her rhinestone collar of the day always matched her toenail polish. She did everything she was told in either English or German - even going tee-tee on newspaper the minute Hilda put it down which saved Tina from 'getting dirty' by going outside. Tina was even allowed an occasional bit of beer if she sat at the table and licked from the stein without her paws touching the tabletop. The only time I saw Tina act like a dog was on a rare occasion that Hilda let her out into our back yard. Tina chased my cat, who climbed the fence at record speed and didn't come home for a week.

More to my liking was my friend Sherry's dog. Max was a white Husky. He was big, playful and not prissy like Tina. He was a yard dog. He played fetch, loved to be scratched, was big enough to squeeze and he was downright beautiful. I was nine years old that summer day when Sherry’s family was out of town. I unlocked their back gate to go play with lonely Max. Instead of a proper dog greeting, or throwing his beloved ball, I went straight for a hug and Max punctured my wrist with one canine tooth, letting me know in no uncertain terms that he was totally uncomfortable with my approach. I didn’t understand at the time and knew I wasn't supposed to be in his yard so I went home and cried in the bathroom while I cleaned and bandaged my wrist and put on a long sleeve shirt so no one would know.

My friend Rhonda had a fat Chihuahua who could have claimed the 'Twinkie defense'. He dined on shoe string potatoes and Twinkies while we did our homework in front of the television. He didn't really play since he could hardly walk, but I liked him until he bit a hole through my upper lip when I was ten. My friend just sloughed it off, saying her dog was just like that. Then she showed me the scar that ran from the bottom of her nose to her lip, where the dog had bitten her a few years before so I ended up feeling grateful that I only had a puncture wound.

Even with these experiences under my belt, it took years to realize that loving dogs isn’t enough. Exercise and training isn't always enough either. Dogs need to see us as a leader. If they don't, they may try to correct us with a bite, steal a turkey off the counter, or even eat 500 of your fresh baked Christmas cookies. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

On my 18th birthday, I left my parents home and got my first dog, Gretchen the Brindle Great Dane. I was the happiest girl in the world until I found my first mutilated shoe...and little did I know that was the tip of the iceberg, just the start of my life with dogs and the beginning of my great big dog story.

In my next dog story, after life with Gretchen, I was blessed with a Silver German Shepherd. I claim that Jason was The Best Family Dog in the World. He was my best friend and so well-behaved, the neighborhood kids would knock at the door to see if Jason could come out and play.

The road got rougher when I adopted Jenny. She didn't like other dogs and she didn't like children - until she got her own. Then my Fawn Great Dane became a Great Dane babysitter and showed a patience (and surefootedness) I’d never seen in a huge dog.

Not exactly a dog story, in Death of a Dog and Taming a Feral Cat you will find out that while I was grief stricken, who should read the invisible sign outside my house saying “Sucker lives here”, but a broken, feral cat. As it turned out, he was just what I needed.

After the loss of a dog, how could I be up to Adopting a New Dog? I wasn’t ready, so my husband got himself one... Then he went golfing.

My Sweet Dog, Isaac. The timing for a new dog couldn’t be worse, but this dog insisted on being adopted by me. Then he wreaked havoc on my house and my entire neighborhood. This has got to be my number one in the believe-it-or-not dog story category.

Have you ever seen a ghost? Ever felt like someone was there watching you but when you turned around, no one was there? Then read Seeing Ghosts and Ghost Pets. If anyone were to ask me now "Do dogs go to Heaven?" I would have to smile and say, "Yes!"

Dog Gone It - Do I Have Writer's Cramp? It was one of those days. I tried to sit down and write about my dogs but everything that could go wrong, did go wrong and now you'll know why I just can't sit down and write a dog story every single day.

Do you have a dog with a bad habit? I do. In Funny Dog Stories, Thievery Among Dogs read about a couple of kleptomaniacs.

For a dog story or two about living with Pit Bulls, try
Pit Bull Dogs - My Dog Story continues.

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