Shep, aka "S-Woggle Dee"
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In
Memory of Shep My heart, my home, my life are
so empty |
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On May 20, 1992 shortly after
moving out to the place where I now
live, Cathie and I saw a black and
white, medium-sized, male dog about 3
miles from our house. He was
obviously lost, terribly thin and
covered with burrs, ticks, and fleas.
We brought him home and began the
round of vaccinations, neutering, and
TLC he so badly needed. He had a
slight limp from an old injury to his
left hip, but soon recovered and
settled into his new home. Cathie
named him Jake but, when we separated
a year later, I renamed him to Shep,
because he looked so much like a dog
by that name we had as kids on the
farm back in Nebraska. Shortly after Shep came to live with us, we found another stray—this time at the County dump—a yellow Lab I named Anxious because he had separation anxiety. He and Shep soon became fast friends, and I gradually got Anxious over his fear of my leaving. I didn’t let the dogs come into the house back in those days, but I built them a dog house with insulated walls, floor and ceiling, and layers of thick carpet on the floor. A doggie-door kept out the weather and on cold nights when I checked on them, they were always warm and toasty. One day three or four years later, Shep, Anxious and I were returning from doing our miles when I noticed that, as I opened the door, both of them were staring longingly past me into the house. On a whim, I threw the door all the way open and invited them to come inside. They looked up at me for reassurance, then came in slowly, a look of awe on their faces as they inspected everything. Right from the first they were perfect gentlemen inside the house. Never once did they have an accident of any sort. I bought them large pillows and placed them on the floor beside my bed at night, and the sounds of their breathing became a tremendous source of comfort in the dark. With the cats asleep snuggled up on the bed and the dogs close by, the nights became a cozy, family event. Then Anxious got cancer of the spleen and quickly deteriorated to the point where I had to have him put to sleep. Shep missed him as much as I did, and often, when we were going out to do our miles, he’d stop and stare back toward the house, as if wondering what was keeping his old friend. I’m not sure how old Shep was when I found him, but I’m guessing that he was 2 to 4 years old, which would make him 12 to 14 years old now. He limps a bit at times from his old injury, especially if I don’t watch his weight closely enough and he gains a few pounds. But he wouldn’t dream of not doing the miles, though these days he only does a one or two with me, then waits at the end of my driveway while I do the rest of mine. He’s become such a close friend and won’t let me out of his sight when I’m home. He’s very protective of his domain, which includes the cats, too. On a couple of occasions when a neighbor’s dog wandered by, Shep positioned himself between the intruder and the cats, protecting them with his body. I’ve no doubt he’d lay down his life for any one of us in his family. Written by Jim- Back to Jim's Pet Page |
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