I must have been 6 years old when I got my first German Shepherd Dog. Dad owned a little country store called "Webster's Mini-Mart" and we lived in a trailer beside the store... It was just outside Charlotte, NC in a town (or county) called Stanly.
There were many different kinds of people that came to that store... Some were just passing through and others were locals who came in every day or so. I remember many of the regulars; some better than others. There was one man that always came by and hardly ever had enough money for what he needed. He was a rough looking thin man in his fifty's called Raymond. He drove a 50's model pick-up truck. Dad traded Raymond a shotgun for the meak, humble dog he had on his truck that day. We were told that he was a Belgian Shepherd. Looking back, I feel sure now that he was actually a bi-color German Shepherd Dog that was mostly black. We named him SMOKEY and quickly grew attached to him.
He was probably a couple of years old when we got him, and as young as I was, I could tell that the dog didn't act quite right. Daddy said it seemed as though he'd been beaten. I remember Smokey at this point as being very timid and shy. He seemed to cower down frequently. That has always stuck in my mind.....and even then made me feel kind of sorry for any animal that has to endure physical abuse. Pop assured me that he didn't think Raymond was the one who beat him cause he had just gotten the dog a day or so before.
One of the customers at the store who was also a friend of Pop's trained dogs for the local police department. He'd noticed Smokey and the way he acted and offered his services to try and give the dog a little training and to get him to realize that he wasn't going to be abused any more. I'm not sure how long Smokey was away from us but being a young child, it seemed like we were apart forever. When he did return, he hadn't changed much. He looked the same, maybe a little heavier. But when we started playing, THAT'S when I noticed the difference in his demeanor! He seemed full of himself!! He was more energetic, responsive, and confident. This looked like the same dog that had left us so shy and backward; and in a sense it was. This trainer had brought out the Alpha Male that had been overshadowed in this noble dog by a life of abuse.
Smokey was kept chained up in front of our trailer and became very protective of our property and of us! He was particularly protective of ME. I can remember playing with two other dogs at separate times and Smokey breaking his chain to get to the other dog.......probably thinking the other dog was hurting me or maybe just out of jealousy. One of the dogs was an Afghan Hound and the other was a Saint Bernard. Both were much bigger than Smoke, but his tenacity equaled out any advantage their size gave them. Daddy had to resort to using a logging chain to keep Smokey in his place.
Dad tells the story of him and another man heading into the trailer to do some trading. As they were headed up the steps, Smokey growled and lunged at the man and pulled him back down the steps by his coat sleeve. Dad's says the man had a pistol in his coat pocket right by the arm the dog had grabbed.
Smokey was the first real pet I'd ever had. Sure I'd had turtles, and a bird, but this pet responded to me and liked to play with me. Dad later sold the store and we were going to move closer to our first home in Winston Salem. We were moving to King and Dad said we shouldn't take Smokey with us because he could hurt someone else's dog or even hurt one of our neighbors. We hadn't had him very long when we had to move and leave him behind. The man who trained him took him and Dad says he probably worked with the police department. I only wish we had a picture of him.
My second German Shepherd Dog I got around 1985. Some friends and I were riding around in the snow early one winter morning and saw a sign at the corner of Hwy 66 and Moser Rd. that read "Free Puppies!" I was about 19 years old, still lived at home, and wanted another dog. We stopped to look at the puppies and as soon as I saw her, I knew she was meant to be my dog. The old man said the pups were 1/2 Lab and 1/2 Shepherd. There was this one pup that stood out from the rest because she was the only one to actually look like a German Shepherd Dog. She had the typical markings and colors of the Shepherd and also had the same ears and snout. I said earlier that I had made up my mind at first site and she was the one!
When I got her home I had already thought of a story to help convince Mom that we should keep her. Yeah, I told her about finding her on the side of the road, in the snow, alone, cold, scared, and about how I could barely see her she had sunk in the snow so far. Mom agreed that we should keep her and we proceeded with simple obedience and house training. She was barely 8 weeks old and cried a lot the first couple of nights. We named her SMOKEY and decided to keep her in the backyard when she was old enough to stay out there on her own.
She was a smart dog and easy to train. She too was very protective. She wasn't as large as the average Shepherd but she was a strong and aggressive dog when the need presented itself. She was kept chained up for awhile and eventually, after she was spayed, given the run of the yard. She hardly ever left her domain and greeted everyone who came to the house. If she didn't know you, or didn't like you, you didn't get out of your car. She wouldn't LET you out of your car!
She loved to fetch a ball and to chase a moving light or reflection. I took her fishing with me and brought a tennis ball along. I'll bet she was in and out of that pond 15 times before we left that day. I didn't catch too many fish, but she and I had a really good time. She also loved the water hose, live fish, and just lying by your side. She wouldn't get inside her doghouse; instead she'd lie on the carport or on the front porch. In extremely cold weather she was allowed inside and would lie at the bottom of the stairs on a blanket, but by morning, she was ready to get back outside.
After a few years Mom and I moved out of the house I grew up in and Dad moved in. We went to live in an apartment in Winston and couldn't take Smokey with us. Dad agreed to keep her there at the house and take care of her. She stayed there till the day she died. She was about 14 years old when she crawled up under a bush; stretched out with her head on her front paws and took her last breath. Dad called me and I went and buried her in the corner of the backyard for him.
My third and current German Shepherd Dog is Kicho. Before I found her I had wanted another dog for some time. I wanted a dog that would be a loyal companion, a friend for my young son; one that could be trained to obey and protect. I had to have another German Shepherd Dog!
I have seen black ones, white ones, and combinations of all the standard colors. There was always something about a big black dog that appealed to me. Maybe because my first one was mostly black, I'm not sure.
It was a comfortable day near the end of March in 2003 as I traveled towards my next job. I turned off Hwy 66 onto Moser Rd. and saw a sign near a driveway on the right. The sign read GERMAN POLICE PUPPIES FOR SALE The only reason I stopped was because this was the same place I had gotten my second dog so many years ago.
So out of curiosity, I turned in, went to the door and talked to an older man who led me to a lot where the 3 remaining pups were being kept. They were HUGE!! He said they were 3 months old. He was selling them on consignment for another man.
Even at 3 months, the pups were BIG and beautiful! Huge paws, long legs and this one had the biggest ears, and she was almost all black! The other two had longer hair and were the more common Shepherd colors. The black one was tall and lanky with short hair and a sweet disposition. I knew when I first saw them that the black one was the one that I really wanted, but I made up my mind that I was going to look them over and make sure she was the best of the litter. Since there were only three (and this included the runt) my choice was easy. The black one was the one.
Three months later, I know I made the right decision. Kicho is growing into a beautiful, graceful, intelligent, loyal companion. Her obedience training is going very well and she is spoiled beyond imagination. She's not really spoiled that bad. We keep her inside at night and put her out every morning when we go to work. She has a ten foot by ten foot kennel with rubber stall mats as a floor and a portable car canopy over her for shade from the sun and the rain. She also has about a 35 foot run with a ten foot lead.
Kicho is recovering nicely from being "surgically sterilized" on July 23, 2003. She wants to play so bad, and you can tell it hurts her even when she just jumps up on the couch. She whimpers a little every now and then. I feel so sorry for her. The vet sent some meds home that are supposed to help with the pain. The dosage is only once a day. The incision looks large to me. I was telling Pop about it and he said that when Smokey 2 was spayed, the cut was close to 18 inches long. The younger (and smaller) the dog, the smaller the incision.
My girlfriend (Melinda) and I had discussed with my cousin and her husband, the idea of going to Gatlinburg, TN for the weekend of July 28th. As a matter of fact, while we were talking about going the idea of eloping arose in the conversation. Melinda and I have been engaged since Jan. 31st and were going to try and get married this summer. This seemed like the perfect opportunity!!
Little was I to know that Kicho's incision would end up with infection on Friday (the day we were to leave). I took her to the vet and was given antibiotics to give her twice a day. They also made her were an Elizabethan collar (you know, the big, goofy cone) so she wouldn't be able to pull at the sutures or lick the wound. Needless to say, I had my reservations about our little getaway after the vet visit. I seriously thought about postponing the trip until Kicho was in better health. I confided in my Pop for some direction in this time of confusion. He assured me he could take care of my BABY while I snuck off to tie the knot. Now I trust my father with my life (and have on more than one occasion!) but the thought of my young, sweet puppy being without me when she was in a bad way just gave me a sick feeling in the bottom of my gut.
Reluctantly I kept my plans and journeyed to the mountains to marry the woman of my dreams. I hate to see my cell phone bill due to the fact that there were several calls made back to King America just to hear the words, "She's doing great Son, don't you worry about her."
Now Kicho's right at 8 months old and has developed into a beautiful young dog. She still has PUPPY just pouring out of her, but is very easy going and a pleasure to have around the house. She loves to TUG and to practice her commands. All she wants in return is to be close to me.
Kicho is now almost 14 months old and is just like one of the family. She knows her "place in the pack" and respects and protects us and our home. She is still such a little ham. She still has quite a bit of PUPPY in her, but is always ready and anxious to play a new game or learn a new command.
.jpg)
