Heart Dogs -- please share your stories and photos! - Page 2

Great Story

I had my heart set on an Ovcharka/Caucasian Mountain Shepherd, the bear style when my husband talked me into going to look at a litter of GSDs that a local breeder had.  He only bred for working dogs and many of his lineage ended up being K9s or some other form of working dog.  We showed up and the two females came bounding out and were on us like a heat rash. The lone male, huge pup, calmly walked up to us and made eye contact, then grabbed his toy to play.  The females grabbed the toy from him and he let them have the toy.  He walked over to the other toy and started to play with that, all the time keeping an eye on the females.  When they decided the toy he had looked better, they dropped the original toy and went for his, he took his original toy and went up to us and dropped it at my feet, all the while looking up at me.  When the females tried to grab the original toy again, he let them know he was keeping the toy, quickly and with minimum fuss, then herded them over to the other toy.  We all got a chuckle out of that one.  I sat on the ground to get a look at him, he came over and placed his head in my hands and just calmly looked into my eyes, that was all she wrote, I was hooked.  He followed me everywhere and we had a great time playing.  Once he decided to play, it was balls to the wall and nothing got in his way.  The breeder said he was the pick of the litter and wasn't selling him.  We said we would think about which dog to get and left.  This pup walked with me to the fence and sat down watching us leave.  I was disappointed since I fell in love with that pup.  Later that night the breeder called us up and said he would sell us the male since the goofy pup never left his post by the gate, he had never witnessed a bonding like that (how did he know we were coming back that night?).  We went back right away and bought the pup.  Loki was a great dog, and taught me much of what I learned.  He was tough, stubborn, incredibly intelliegent (nicknamed Psycho Einstein by my trainer who said this dog was the once in a life time dog a trainer dreams about).  He really was the poster dog for "threat recognition and assessment" never over or under reacting to a situation.  He had a twisted sense of humor and I always felt safe with him although he brought me to tears many a time and also made me the happiest proudest handler around.  He made me look great.  He developed DM and was euthanized last year.  He was a training dog so to speak for many other decoys-in-training since he had great self control.  He was a favorite of the neighborhood kids who loved to play hide-and-seek with him.  It was great to see all the kids pooped out on the front lawn laying around and on Loki who was looking pretty darn happy to be in the middle of the pile.  He helped rehabilitate an abused GSD that we rescued and who had major issues, always patient and firm with other dogs that had problems.  We all miss him.

How blessed we are to have these angels in our lives, for all to brief a time...All of these stories make me laugh and cry.  Thank you all for sharing.

When Bev moved in here she was afraid of Shepherds... an issue cured by my old guy Peregrine Von Hindenberg, who was a big mush.  When I lost Peri and later his daughter Fawn I found myself without a GSD for the 1st time in 30 years.  We went to the local Shelter and were told that they had one female special needs Shepherd, about 5 years old at the time.  She'd been adopted and returned a couple of times as she throws up after she eats (Mega E I later discovered) When this lovely lady was brought to the greeting room she ran in and jumped up on the sofa next to Bev, and that's where she's been ever since.   Klytie LOVES to go swimming, to visit the elderly in the Senior Psych Unit for therapy visits... We've found that she's a wonderful medical alert dog, sensing when I have a migraine, or Bev's sugar is very high.  On one visit to the Psych Unit she repeatedly went to one patient and lay across his chest in the gerrichair... as we know she alerts to us we mentioned it to staff.  They checked his Oxygen level and found that it was in the low 80's (quite low) and because of Klytie it was found and his Oxygen increased.  We had a roll over accident where I was badly banged and bruised and couldn't get out of a chair without help.  Klytie came to me every time I went to get up and "bridged" as they train service dogs to do. She did this for about 10 days, til I was able to get up on my own.  Other than then she is 100% Bev's shadow, Heart and Soul.

  When we adopted her we took up our rugs, and have to clean up if she does vomit... no biggie.  She's one of the most awesome Shepherds I've lived with.  Now 11 1/2 and still raising Cain with the youngsters.  We  hope she'll live for ever.

Windwalker, I have one of those "medic alert" dogs in my rescued GSD.  He was horribly abused and just a shell when we got him at 6 months old.  He would always curl in a ball, never look at you, shake, just a wreck.  We spent months working with him on not being afraid of hands or feet, (he was always hit and kicked, they even used a police baton, the ASP on him).  Long story short, I took him with me to go train Loki (who used to sleep next to him and never let him out of sight for long, I swear they had conversations).  It was the miracle we were looking for.  He came out of his shell and has never looked back.  He is an incredible tracker and just a plain freak of nature.  He can gauge when the storm will arrive to within 10 minutes (which is useful during hurricane season), he knows when my son or I are getting a migraine, he knows when my husband's sugar is low (he knew before we knew, my husband was diagnosed a year after Ronin knew).  He knew when a young girl in our obedience class was going to get a seizure (he grabbed her hand and kept trying to get her to lay down), same with our neighbor who had a heart attack.  Our female was very ill as a pup and we almost lost her, Ronin knew when she was going to throw up or have a diarrhea attack.  He knew when she felt bad and knew way before we did that something was wrong with Loki.  He could smell the cancer in a friend and would spend the longest time licking the base of her neck were the tumor was.  My surgeon friend, brought one of her patients who just had surgery out to obedience class to get her up and moving, Ronin found a very small infection in the patient's other knee (the one not operated on), it didn't even register on the blood work.  He is an amazing dog and has taught me how incredibly resilient dogs can be.

Wow Amazing stories.  These dogs are truly incredible.

Bump

I met my heart dog on a snowy cold morning. He was a big old fuzzball. It had taken a year to find a quality breeder and  she happen to have a really nice litter on the ground. It was love at first sight. We had our first great adventure together getting him back to Florida ( the airline had put him in an unheated space- I pulled him and me off and waited for the next plane...). I think from that day on, our bond was unbreakable. He was goofy, and silly unless it was time to work or in a situation that was a bit dicey(we wound up in one of the worst neighborhoods in Miami by accident coming back from a trial-we were never bothered by anyone...). He helped raise my puppies and kittens (who, for some reason, thought that climbing on him was the best thing- he would just lie there and roll his eyes but never do anything  to them..) He would let strange children run up to him and throw their arms around him (I think that he looked like a big bear to them - he was 95 lbs and a coat), yet would wait for his chance to take a helper off his feet (I swear he would laugh when he did it). I lost him a little over 2 years ago. He had stopped eating over the weekend (not even from my hand) but seemed ok otherwise. Took him in on Monday - did xrays, bloodwork - xrays showed fluid in his belly, he was very anemic according to the bloodwork. At that point I pretty much knew what was coming (I think knowing too much may be a bad thing sometimes...). I slept on the floor with him and told him stories of our life togther - the first time I saw him (in a blizzard), our first big trip away, and so on. Tuesday morning we went back to the vet for the ultrasound - turns out that he had hemagiosarcoma in his spleen that were bleeding and a large mass in his liver. On that clear, beautiful Tuesday morning, I gave him his wings. In the end, he went with all the class and dignity that he carried for every minute of his 8 years. I sat on the floor with him, his head in my lap, held him, told him that I loved him very much and that it was ok to go...and he went....
Many of you can relate to having your dog of "firsts" - this is THE ONE - the one who is your first AKC dog, Schtuzhund dog, CGC, and so on. This was my guy - he never ever refused to do anything that I asked...it was always "What are we doing, Mom?  That? Ok, I'm with you..."  I love my others with all my heart, but this was my very special guy.
Go and hug and love on your critters - we share such a short time with them and they bring so very much to our lives.

In memory of Erich von Fitchtenwald - Dec 30, 2001 - January 20, 2009

Fly


 

My heart dog is my rescue, Ranger:

As the man unfastened the heavy chain from the big German Shepherd’s collar, he gave me some parting advice: “If he gives you any trouble, just show him a shovel.”
 
Too disgusted to respond, I clipped a leash to the dog’s collar, then with a bit of coaxing, enticed him into the dog crate for the long trip to his new home.
 
His journey had started several weeks earlier when I told my birth mom my 14 year old Shepherd, Tasha, was failing rapidly, and didn’t have much longer to live.
 
“What are you going to do when the time comes?” Mom asked.
 
“I don’t know, but I know I can’t get a pup, because there will be no one home to help housebreak it now that Roger’s gone.”
 
“Well, if you want the most gorgeous 3 year old German Shepherd, you’d better speak now, because the owner says he’s going to shoot it!”

”WHAT?? Why? Is the dog vicious?”
 
“No, he’s quite friendly. The owner got him as watch dog, but he’s not happy with him, so he says he’s going to shoot him if no one else wants him. He doesn’t believe in keeping a dog just as a pet.”
 
I told my mom I was definitely interested, and made arrangements to meet the dog.  Several weeks later, Ranger was on his way to his new home.
 
Three weeks later, Ranger got to see that shovel, as I used it to dig Tasha’s grave. She had passed quietly in her sleep. He stood beside me and watched as I dug the hole. When I stopped to rest, he crawled into my lap and licked the tears and sweat off my face.
 
“I’m so glad I’ve got you, buddy,” I whispered. Tasha’s death was just the most recent in a string of losses. Between May of 2004 and March of 2005, I’d lost both of my adoptive parents and my husband. Now it was Tasha’s turn, the mischievous stray who’d wandered into my life shortly before my marriage to Roger. She’d been my link with the past, the reminder that I’d been single before, and could do it again.
 
 Living alone was not easy for me. I have a severe hearing loss: 70% in the left ear, and 90% in the right, and when I take my hearing aids out for the night, I don’t hear much of anything. I had talked to the Lions Club about a Hearing Ear dog, but their rules said I’d have to get rid of my pet. Needless to say, that was not an option, especially with a dog as elderly as Tasha!
 
Then, shortly after Tasha’s death, through the magic of the internet, I met a lady named Anne Bussell, who’d trained her own service dog. I asked her for more information, and she directed me to some training resources. Soon I was teaching Ranger to be my ears. He caught on very quickly, and in no time, was alerting me to the smoke alarm, alarm clock, door, and kitchen timer!
 
I also began giving him public access training, using the guidelines set down by Assistance Dogs International. 

In March, we put his training to the test, when we attended our first large public event together, a writer’s conference (Ad Astra) in Toronto. Friday evening was party night, and, Ranger, dressed in his orange service vest, wandered from room to room with me, taking the crowds and noise in stride, and completely ignoring the tempting displays of food.
 
Around midnight, I decided to turn in, but first Ranger needed a walk. The streets were totally deserted, and it was very icy underfoot. Ranger showed no interest in doing his business, so when we came to a small woods, I decided to take him off among the trees, hoping he’d lift his leg to one of them.
 
I took one step off the sidewalk, and my left leg plunged into an empty fence post hole. When I’d recovered from the shock of the fall, I realized I was in deep trouble. My left leg was buried well past the knee, my right leg was doubled underneath me, and I was up to my elbows in soft snow. There was nothing I could grab to pull myself out of the hole! The temperature was below freezing, and there was no traffic on the road at this hour, as it only led to the hotel.  How was I ever going to get out of this? I could be dead from hypothermia by morning!
 
Ranger had scampered off a short distance when I fell, not sure what to make of my flailing arms. Now, hearing the distressed noises I was making, he came and plastered his big body against mine. I quickly realized I could use him as a support to pull myself upright and get my leg out of the hole. Carefully, I began to lean on his back. He braced himself, and held steady as I gradually pushed myself upright.
 
Once I was out of the hole, I hugged him tightly. “Thanks, buddy,” I said. “I rescued you, now I guess you decided you had to return the favour!” 





Ranger shows how adaptable a good GSD can be. He spent most of the first 3 years of his life attached to an 8 foot chain, winter and summer. If the weather got too foul, they would take him into the kitchen, and tie him to a doorknob for the night.

When his former owner, Richard, first put him on the chain, he also put a choke chain around his neck. He didn't realize it was hurting the dog until it was buried in the flesh. My birth mom's husband told me how he'd helped Richard remove it, by spraying the neck with local anesthetic, and ripping it free, a couple of inches at a time. No wonder the collar he was wearing stunk so bad that I had to throw it away. They'd probably put it on over top of the still-bleeding wounds!

He's a great watch dog, with a booming bark, but once you're inside the house, he will probably be trying to get you to play ball with him within 5 minutes. And, as you can tell from the above story, he has no problems with crowds of people, busy city streets or loud music.  He's also very good with children.

His temperment couldn't have been better suited to his new job. My previous GSD, Tasha, had to sniff every square inch of a new place before settling down. Ranger will give a few sniffs, then settle on his bed, but his ears will be constantly moving, listening to what's going on around him, though he won't bark unless there's a knock at the door.