A Dog StoryPosted: February 5, 2015
Over our fence. through the trees and three houses down, I can see the Great Pyrenees that lives behind his own fence. There are a couple of other dogs that he lives there with and watches over. I love to see him and hear his gruff bark because he reminds me so much of Panda, the beautiful Pyr we once had.
Panda was about a year old when we got her, coming from a home where she had been pretty much neglected, growing from a cute, cuddly puppy into very large, undisciplined dog. She wanted nothing to do with us at first, roaming from room to room, causing as much destruction as she could. She chewed up door mats and dishtowels, entire rolls of paper towels, vinyl flooring and wooden door frames. We had to keep her on a leash, tethered to our very heavy coffee table to keep her from destroying everything within her reach which was extensive.
Many would have given up on her, but we decided that obedience school was in order. Panda was a star pupil and would have been first in her class if Bill, an obnoxious, late-to-every-class boxer hadn’t gotten on her last nerve during graduation. She crunched down hard on my husband’s leash-holding hand trying to get back at Bill. No permanent damage done to his hand, my husband accepted Panda’s second place ribbon. But in our hearts she had come in first.
Obedience school and daily workouts helped a lot in the bonding process, but she remained unpredictable. She once flew out the front door and took off, leading my husband and our friend from next door on a merry chase. They found her walking down the middle of the nearby main road, rush hour traffic stopped in her wake. Our good neighbor, Mark, finally cornered and grabbed her, ending up with muddy shoes and white dog hair all over his dark business suit.
She really did become a great dog, often standing on top of her dog house and watching over us. She loved the snow and would curl up on the picnic table and let it cover her until all you could see was a mound of white with a black nose.
When we got a beagle puppy it was mutual love for those two. Little Bugle Ann looked like a peanut next to the big white dog but, in play, Panda always let her have the upper hand (or paw). The two were great friends until Annie died of kidney failure. A year later, a grieving Panda followed her little friend. I like to think they are together again, wherever good dogs go when they die.