I met him, in Feb. '05, while training for a 15k.
The kid, on the bicycle said,"Watch out for that big dog."
A little farther, down the road, a young white German Shepard, about 1 1/2yr.old, jumped up out of the ditch, and stopped me.. He did obesience, and we greeted each other. He only had a collar, with no tag. He seemed to want to stick with me, so I told him,"If you're going to stick with me, you'd better be able to run."
We ran the six miles, through the woods and back to the house. Seeing as how, I didn't have a dog, I fixed something for him.
The next day, on the run, he disappeared, into the woods, after some elusive, imaginary prey, and I told him that he was on his own..... An hour later, he shows up at the house, and I knew that he was mine.
Well, his greatest source of joy: roaming, rambling and covering miles, just because he can, has been his downfall.
I had to give up running, in July, '07, due to an ankle injury.... Landing a parachute, downwind, at 20mph, is not good.
He just couldn't stay confined to a 1acre lot....First, it was a weak spot in the field fence, then, he found a low spot, at the bottom of the fence.
Each time I fixed the problem, it simply provided him with a new challenge.
When he started climbing the 5' tall gate, I knew that his days were numbered.
Once he was out, there was no getting him back, until he was tired or hungry.
He would simply give you that, "You've got to be kidding." look, and trot off.
He always escaped at night, and visited the neighborhood mailboxes, but would, generally, be sitting outside the gate, waiting for the "Hungry" call, in the morning.
Sometimes, he would be gone, for a whole day, but always showed up.
He left, Wed. night, and was gone, all day Thurs. This morning, I whistled for him, and he raised his head, laying over in the neighbor's open yard, but he did not get up, to come to the gate.
He had, obviously been struck by a vehicle, which severed his lower left leg, except for a patch of skin, and the main tendon.
Apparently, it had happened, on Wed, because the leg was already deteriorating, badly.
I took him to the vet, and the choice was a couple thousand, for surgery, and months of rehab, or go to sleep.
Well, I put him down this morning. Bubba, because he was a knucklehead.
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The kid, on the bicycle said,"Watch out for that big dog."
A little farther, down the road, a young white German Shepard, about 1 1/2yr.old, jumped up out of the ditch, and stopped me.. He did obesience, and we greeted each other. He only had a collar, with no tag. He seemed to want to stick with me, so I told him,"If you're going to stick with me, you'd better be able to run."
We ran the six miles, through the woods and back to the house. Seeing as how, I didn't have a dog, I fixed something for him.
The next day, on the run, he disappeared, into the woods, after some elusive, imaginary prey, and I told him that he was on his own..... An hour later, he shows up at the house, and I knew that he was mine.
Well, his greatest source of joy: roaming, rambling and covering miles, just because he can, has been his downfall.
I had to give up running, in July, '07, due to an ankle injury.... Landing a parachute, downwind, at 20mph, is not good.
He just couldn't stay confined to a 1acre lot....First, it was a weak spot in the field fence, then, he found a low spot, at the bottom of the fence.
Each time I fixed the problem, it simply provided him with a new challenge.
When he started climbing the 5' tall gate, I knew that his days were numbered.
Once he was out, there was no getting him back, until he was tired or hungry.
He would simply give you that, "You've got to be kidding." look, and trot off.
He always escaped at night, and visited the neighborhood mailboxes, but would, generally, be sitting outside the gate, waiting for the "Hungry" call, in the morning.
Sometimes, he would be gone, for a whole day, but always showed up.
He left, Wed. night, and was gone, all day Thurs. This morning, I whistled for him, and he raised his head, laying over in the neighbor's open yard, but he did not get up, to come to the gate.
He had, obviously been struck by a vehicle, which severed his lower left leg, except for a patch of skin, and the main tendon.
Apparently, it had happened, on Wed, because the leg was already deteriorating, badly.
I took him to the vet, and the choice was a couple thousand, for surgery, and months of rehab, or go to sleep.
Well, I put him down this morning. Bubba, because he was a knucklehead.
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