Facebook invades your life in so many ways . . . some of it bad . . . most of it, however, is fun and/or informative. For me, it's a window into the world and keeps me in touch with friends from all over the country . . . most of whom I'd probably lost contact with years ago if we'd had to rely on "snail mail!"
Today I came across a post from someone that reminded me of a story about my Papa and his German Shepherd Major.
First of all, isn't Major the coolest name for a German Shepherd? I mean, seriously?!? Could a dog have a more powerful name?!? After all, they were used in the military for various reasons, and police forces around the world use them in their day-to-day operations.
I had a friend in Florida who had the most amazingly trained Shepherd in the world . . . at least that I personally knew. A couple of things this dog was trained to do:
- He'd back his butt into the bushes to poop
- He let the lawn boy into the yard to mow and trim but wouldn't let him leave (pretty sure he'd have done that with a burglar)
- He could be walked without a leash and would ignore other dogs if you said simply "No dog"
- Leashed or not, he'd walk right beside you mostly with his eyes on you, waiting for a command
- If you gave the command "Stay," he wouldn't move a muscle until you said the next command
- You could put a dog biscuit on his nose, tell him "Stay," and he'd sit there, holding the biscuit until you said "Go!"
Smart, smart dog . . . well trained too!
Major, however, was a "country dog" and not so formally trained, but he was sooooo smart! Papa could give him a command . . . even a silent one . . . and that dog would obey. He was not only a companion but a protector as well. Good thing because farmers don't care for dogs that are lazy and non-compliant . . . farmers prefer animals that serve a purpose!
Needless to say, Major accompanied Papa nearly everywhere he went, and his favorite thing to do with Papa was to go . . . especially if the "go" involved the truck. That dog LOVED to ride . . . his favorite place to be was on the top of the truck cab! Yes, I said on TOP of the truck cab. The rubber that kept the windshield in place bore scars from where Major's claws dug in . . . where he held on while Papa drove 50+ mph down Highway 1!!
Back in those days, if you lived in the country, if you didn't fit in the front of the truck, you got to ride in the back of the truck!! When we kids were allowed to go with Papa (and remember, I trailed along every chance I got), we could ride in the back of his truck. And we stood . . . STOOD . . . behind the cab of the truck . . . faces into the wind . . . flying bugs be damned (we swallowed a lot of bugs . . . probably lucky we didn't lose an eye to one) . . . on either side of Major!
The top of the truck cab also bore scars from where Major's claws scratched the paint. You see, physics takes over when brakes are applied in a truck. Newton's FIRST Law of Physics is this:
In simpler terms:
Broken down into even simpler terms:
Yep, every time Papa hit the brakes, that dog would fly! Thankfully Papa never hit his brakes at a high rate of speed . . . and am much more grateful we kids never flew out of the truck. But Major wound up in the road a few times. Undaunted, he'd leap back in the truck and climb back up on the top of that cab! That dog was fearless!!
I loved going places with Papa and Major!
We lost Major to a snake. As with most farm animals (outside of cattle and other commercially raised animals), Major's life was pretty short. Since vet visits were limited or non-existent (they just cost money that was meant for raising a family . . . a reality of farm life), some, like Major were subject to worms. He had heart worms which made him more susceptible to illnesses. He was protecting us one day and a pretty big rattlesnake bit him. A healthy dog might have been able to survive . . . Major was older and not exactly healthy. He died as a result of that bite. Even the vet couldn't save him.
He fathered a litter of pups earlier that year, and we were allowed to keep one . . . one we named Rascal. Rascal was NOT smart like his dad! Rascal had this thing for chasing semi-trucks on U.S. 1 . . . a very busy highway in Georgia! While he was lucky in once sense . . . that he didn't get run over . . . we lost him to what my dad thought was anti-freeze poisoning.
Here's my favorite cartoon character's take on physics . . . about what mine might be!
"Dogs never lie about love." ~ Jeffery Masson
No comments:
Post a Comment