This is actually starts off as a sad story.
We owned a female Siberian Husky, named Cheyenne. She was great with all types of people and animals. We decided for her 2nd Christmas we would find her a brother or sister. My husband and I looked for months trying to find her a playmate, but nothing came about. Unfortunately, that was not completely true. My husband had a breeder of German Shepherd’s, white ones to be exact. I knew about the breed through a family friend that bred the WWII bloodline and trained them for police and military work. I knew of their intelligence and spoke about “Dolly”, the prize female dog of my family’s friend.
Anyhow, back to the story. We (even though I didn’t know) were supposed to head out to look at and decide about a dog December 3rd. Well…. December 2nd, we came home to find our Cheyenne sick, very sick. She did not get into anything, because we kept her in a kennel during the day. Cheyenne was bleeding out her mouth, nose and backside. We knew the emergency vet was 25 minutes away, but it was not enough time to transport. We spent her last moments with her as she lied on her bed with her favorite blank. She died that night with her family around her….without her Christmas gift.
I told my husband I was done. I was not dog hunting any longer that night. He called and rescheduled the meeting with the GSD breeder for a later date, the 4th. I only found this out later.
The forth came around my husband said he had to go pick up something for work and asked if I wanted to come along. The last thing I wanted was to sit at home alone. So, we piled into the car. He drove and drove then drove some more. Finally, he broke down and said where we were going. I wasn’t a fan of it, but I let it go.
We pulled up to the breeder’s house, shortly after. I told him, thanks for doing this, but I am not ready to handle another puppy. We went in. There were only two pups left. I stood in the kitchen not interested in either dog, but the male puppy was bumping my leg with his head while sitting there looking at me. After a few minutes, I gave in and knelt down to pet him. Only to have him run a few feet away, turn around, run back jumping into my chest. I caught him, I played sports growing up, so I have some skills. Then the breeder opened a bag of food, the male pup went straight for the bag and jumped in the bag head first. All I saw was the pups back legs in the air still running. Moments later he returned to me, sitting there waiting, then began bumping into my leg. I walked across the kitchen; he followed me, sat down waited then began bumping my leg again.
I gave in that night. I felt the male pup wanted to be around me, so I brought him home. Since, that night I welcomed into my life, a dog that listens to me, looks at me as a leader, provider and protector in return he will do anything needed to make sure I am safe.
I never thought out of a sad story, I would find something so true….
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