Terry the Dog, who was part Doberman and part Shepard, was brought up in Newark, New Jersey. When I first met him, I was about fifteen or sixteen and he was about two years old and needed a new home because he had out grown his old home and outstayed his welcome.
Now you really have to be sorry for this dog
that had grown up in a city and got dumped in the country, I mean really rural country. The first day he arrives, he has the shock of his life; he gets to go outside by himself without a leash. After a quick pass or two around the house, he runs off toward the barnyard. What are those funny looking white things with the long necks? I think I will go introduce myself. So Terry walks up to the gaggle of geese, all full of himself. He’s the big kid from the city. WOOF, he says. What ever you are, you had better run or you will be sorry. I’m the new boss around here.
Herman, he’s the big gander, looks at his five wives. What do you think ladies, should we run away? They all quickly responded; poop, poop, poop, poop and poop. It’s unanimous. (You’ve heard the term loose as a goose?) Before poor Terry could blink, the six geese, spread their wings, honk at the top of their lungs and bang, bang, bang they all bite him right on the nose and then still honking and biting they all flew right at him.
Get out of here you idiot dog, this is our barn yard and don’t you forget it; go back to the house where you belong.
“Ow, ow”. What is the matter you creatures? Terry turned and ran toward the house. I don’t like it here.
Now remember, Terry was a city dog and was taught to tolerate or maybe even like cats. It wasn’t long after he arrived that Terry, Amigo and I went for a jaunt through the woods. I don’t really remember where we went, or why we were going, but on the way we met up with a skunk.
Mr. Skunk was minding his own business, snoozing under a burdock leaf, when Terry happened along and discovered him. What an odd looking cat, Terry must have thought and he gave him a doggie kiss right on the face. Amigo and I were out of there, I tried to call Terry, but he was not about to listen to some country yokel kid.
The skunk looks at Terry for a second, swaps ends and gives the dog a good squirt right in the face and that was the end of Terry’s love affair with cats. After this little episode, any cat was fair game and he was going to kill them if he could catch him.
Terry had lots of adventures, but one of the best, as far as I was concerned, was one afternoon when I was visiting with my girlfriend. We had been out with the horses somewhere and we came home and went inside for a drink and a snack. I left Terry outside on his own.
Awhile later, I couldn’t say how long, there was a regular ruckus on the porch; barking, some loud words and finally a “yipe”. We never thought a thing about it.
As it turns out, Terry decided to guard the door, and no one was getting in the house if he could help it, including my girlfriend’s father. He barked, growled and showed his teeth.
Back off buddy, who ever you are, my human is in there and you can’t go in. He was so proud of himself, he growled a little louder.
Meanwhile Dad was mad, fuming in fact. Who knows what those two kids are up to he was thinking. I can’t even get in to get my gun. He left and went to the barn.
That did it, Terry thought. He finally got the idea and went away. What’s he doing with a big pail? I better start growling again. What, wait, what are you doing; get away from me with that pail.
He opened his mouth to bark and splash the bucket full of water was all over his head and in his throat. Cough, Cough. Well damn, why did you do that, I was just doing my job. I don’t like it here; I’m going home. Wild Bill can look out for himself.
It was just a short time later that Amigo and I were on our way home and it was a long time before I was forgiven for leaving my dog to keep my girl friend’s father out of his house.