Several years ago, after I graduated from high school, my family and I moved to a home in Nebraska. I quickly came to realize there were only about three things to do in Nebraska: bowl; go to the bars; or hunting. I wasn’t much of a bowler, I didn’t drink, so I chose to get involved in hunting.

I had an uncle that was selling a hunting dog. He said she, the dog, had a lot of hunting instincts and was partially trained for hunting. The dog we bought was a German shorthair pointer. After much research about the breed we found out the German shorthair was a multi-purpose hunting dog. They were breed for hunting just about anything, birds, rabbits, squirrels, etc.

After a few months with the dog we decided she had enough time to get used to us and decided we should take her out and see what skills she did have. We lived on a small acreage and behind our land were fields covered with trees, creek, and pond. So there were plenty of opportunities to hunt.

fields. At first the dog trotted beside us like any obedient hunting dog should with her nose to the ground sniffing out defenseless prey. She continued sniffing up to our property line, lifted up her head, and before we knew it, she took off like a runaway train. She ran so fast we couldn't keep up with her. We called her back but she would not return. She began barking and barking all the while she was running or chasing after something. All we saw was the image of a dog running away getting smaller and smaller. My brother and I decided to return to the house and see if she would return. We would periodically check the back door to see if she returned. As we stood outside we could hear a dog barking off in the distance. We knew she was still out there. We thought she was after the neighbors’ cows because we could also hear the distant sound of cows mooing. We kept calling her to come home but she was insistent on catching what she was chasing.

About 30 minutes later the dog returned. We quickly realized what it was she was hunting. She was covered with the odor of skunk. It was so bad that it took us over a week and I don’t know how many cans of tomato juice to clean her up. Most animals learn after the first run-in with a skunk not to mess with them again. This was a constant thing with this dog. She was always coming home with skunk on her. We almost had to take stock in V8 just to clean the dog every week. There was no doubt she wasn’t a good hunter. We were always finding dead skunks, raccoons, chickens, and rabbits in our yard.

Dogs Help Themselves to the Frig

My son and I live with two Labrador retrievers, 3 cats, 18 chickens, 200 cows & calves, 30 deer, 20 coveys of quail, 3 coveys of chuckars and an assortment of birds, wild horses and predators.

My favorite story occurred when our retired Lab was still working and living with us in Evergreen, Colorado.

She learned from the cat how to open the refrigerator, and subsequently went on to learn to open an upright freezer and a number of house doors. We had bungee cords on most everything, but as soon as my son and I would leave the home in the morning, Rex & Teal would have a safety briefing and determine the details of the immediate raid. They would figure out how to get upstairs to the kitchen, open the frig or freezer or both, take their plunder into the living room and bask in the warm morning sunlight while they enjoyed their pinched repasts. Teal, with the soft mouth of an accomplished birddog, could manage platters and bowls of food without spilling. The dishes and freezer wrapping papers were never put away. Teal quickly developed the figure of an NFL lineman.

Teal was visiting my daughter in Chico, CA last Thanksgiving and, at the age of 14, learned to open Erin’s refrigerator removing all of the Thanksgiving leftovers.

Be thankful for our honest animals.

Mali Takes on the Terminator

Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of having a dog and being able to sleep with it. Unfortunately my parents didn’t think that was such a good idea. Years later, when I had my own family, I bought a gentle giant of a dog, Mali, a black Labrador. She seldom barked at anything… maybe only a dozen times during the decade that we had her. She died earlier this year. We got another dog, a golden Lab named Spike, not to replace Mali, because that could never happen. Spike barks at most anything.

My oldest son loved to let Mali sleep with him. Once, about 3 in the morning, my wife and I were awakened by what sounded like a growl from a wild animal. I grabbed a baseball bat (really) as I dashed upstairs where I found Mali, poised in front of my son’s walk-in closet. She had cornered something and was growling, teeth bared and hair and tail sticking straight up. I reached through the door and flipped on the light. There it was, Mali’s prey… a poster of the “Terminator” and nothing else. Mali finally relaxed after I tapped on the poster and assured her that everything was all right.

Another memory of Mali: She had gotten loose one day. My wife received a phone call from a neighbor down the street. The neighbor said that Mali was there playing with her dog, an Australian sheepdog and that I should come immediately to see. I rushed over and for the next hour watched the Australian sheepdog toss a ball while Mali retrieved it, over and over.

A Walk with Dad

My husband grew up in a rural area where he, along with his brothers, had dogs that were just part of the family. One dog, Rover, had been a fine dog. However, as he got older he started to become more aggressive. It all came to a head one day, when he bit one of my husbands little cousins. Later that day my father-in-law, George, took Rover for a walk. No one noticed that George also took his 22 gun with him. George returned home alone, without Rover. From then on, the lesson was never bite anyone and, for sure and certain, you never go for a walk with George when he has his 22 gun with him.

The High School Graduate

As my son was finishing high school my wife and I asked him what he wanted for his graduation gift. He responded that he would really like to go an a caribbean cruise. I said "no". He then asked for me to buy the neighbor's old Camero. Again I declined. His final request was for a dog. That seemed certainly less expensive than either the cruise or the car, so I agreed. We went to a pet store and bought a cute little rat terrier. My son named him "Drifter". All was well until my son left for college and we were left with Drifter. In retrospect I think that it would have been cheaper to have given my son the cruise or the car.

I need interesting pet stories. E-mail your story to the address below. Thanks.


	PetLore.com (The Home of Pets and their Tales)