Our first "child" was half yellow lab and half Irish setter. His name was Brandy. He was taller than any lab, but with a deep chest and a nice wedged head. He was the color of a dark golden retriever with a cream colored belly, and in his youth, cream colored fringe on the backs of his legs and the underside of his tail. He was 90 lb. He was an official twig dog, allowed to attend most if not all fellowships, at least the ones we were allowed to run. He liked most people, except one uppity 6th WC branch leader and a foster child we had who tormented him. He was hugely protective of his people. He would joyfully wade into an altercation with another dog, and he only lost once, when he was 12 years old. He was smart enough then not to get into any more battles.
A Brandy story: We lived in Charleston, SC when Hurricane Hugo hit town. In the aftermath came carpetbaggers, thieves and scam artists, looking to make a buck from our distress. We had a big tree down across our front yard that my husband planned to cut up when he got a free weekend. As I was preparing dinner one evening, I noticed a beat up Chevy Suburban drive by a shady looking character, an older guy, slowly making its way around our street. A nicely dressed young man was going door to door, reporting back to the older guy. As he came up our driveway, I thought, "I' m just going to ignore him." However, my son saw him too, and raced to open the door. Fortunately, Brandy got there as the door opened, and the next thing I heard was "MOM!"
Brandy had this guy backed up against the side of the house, snarling furiously. "I'm afraid of dogs!" squeaked the young lad. "Yeah, I think he knows that." I replied, getting a loose grip on Brandy's collar. This encouraged the youngster a bit. "I was wondering if you wanted that tree taken out," he ventured. "My husband's taking care of it." I said. "Now, I don't know how long I can hold onto him, so maybe you better go on your way."
He had barely enough sense to walk quickly instead of run. Brandy wouldn't move until he was back on the street.
My son told me the guy had jumped over the porch railing in an attempt to escape the Jaws of Death.
Well I guess my Iguana will fit right in with the turtle. Mr. Ron is his name. been with me since 99, when I drove from Ca to Ma. in 2000, It was kind off chilly in may so just before Colorado I put him on dashboard to stay warm. Had burlap bag up there fot him to lay on and crawl into when it was time to sleep. Rode pretty much the whole trip on the dash, between food stops. I cant figure out wether it thinks it's a dog or a cat. Will follow me around like a dog but like a cat it won't come to me when I call. when I pet it's sides it leans into it like a purring cat but like a dog it likes to nip sometimes. Do not let an Iguana nip you. I keep him in a large ferret cage modified a bit. Let him walk around a bit. it has a personality.
I had a twig dog that traveled with me all through my twi years. She was the one thing they didn`t talk me out of permanently.
One of my favorite memories was when we lived in a way home. My TC roomie was eating and tormenting her.
She had the dog sit and was excitedly brandishing a hard boiled egg under the dogs nose and yanking it away, acting like she was going to give it to her and then snatch again laughing and hummining in a sing song way ahh ha ha ha haaa haaa..naa hnahh...and just laughing uproariously while my patient pooch looked at her intently.
Finally after a bit more of the torment and one last passs under my mindy`s nose, the girl shoved the entire egg in her mouth.
My dog never moved a hair....but all of a sudden, the girl choked, the entire egg soared up in the air in a perfect trajectory that carried it to mindy...all my dog had to do was open her mouth and snap her jaws shut on her treat.
The tc stood there in open mouth shock, and I finally found my voice and said.... *don`t tell ME that dog`s can`t operate the power of believing* lmao....
Brandy hated for me to sleep in late. Mr. Garden would get up and let him out and all, but I enjoyed my Saturday morning snooze. However, he set about to change this.
First, he would stand at the foot of the bed and stare fixedly at my face. It is an eerie sensation to be stared at in one's sleep; some primitive part of the brain begins to stir uneasily.
If that didn't work, he would come over to my side of the bed, stick his big wet nose in my ear and inhale deeply. This usually worked, as it seemed like my brain would be sucked out by his vacuum-cleaner like proboscis.
However, if that still didn't rouse me, he would find my elbow, stick his head under it, and start flipping my arm up until I surrendered.
Once I swung my feet over the side of the bed, he would do a little victory dance.
He was the most aggravating dog I've ever seen. He knew no master but my husband. He would take off on a neighborhood tour and was impossible to catch until he wanted to be caught. No trick worked on him more than once. He was wicked smart, and could be a real pain in the rear.
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Watered Garden
Our first "child" was half yellow lab and half Irish setter. His name was Brandy. He was taller than any lab, but with a deep chest and a nice wedged head. He was the color of a dark golden retriever with a cream colored belly, and in his youth, cream colored fringe on the backs of his legs and the underside of his tail. He was 90 lb. He was an official twig dog, allowed to attend most if not all fellowships, at least the ones we were allowed to run. He liked most people, except one uppity 6th WC branch leader and a foster child we had who tormented him. He was hugely protective of his people. He would joyfully wade into an altercation with another dog, and he only lost once, when he was 12 years old. He was smart enough then not to get into any more battles.
A Brandy story: We lived in Charleston, SC when Hurricane Hugo hit town. In the aftermath came carpetbaggers, thieves and scam artists, looking to make a buck from our distress. We had a big tree down across our front yard that my husband planned to cut up when he got a free weekend. As I was preparing dinner one evening, I noticed a beat up Chevy Suburban drive by a shady looking character, an older guy, slowly making its way around our street. A nicely dressed young man was going door to door, reporting back to the older guy. As he came up our driveway, I thought, "I' m just going to ignore him." However, my son saw him too, and raced to open the door. Fortunately, Brandy got there as the door opened, and the next thing I heard was "MOM!"
Brandy had this guy backed up against the side of the house, snarling furiously. "I'm afraid of dogs!" squeaked the young lad. "Yeah, I think he knows that." I replied, getting a loose grip on Brandy's collar. This encouraged the youngster a bit. "I was wondering if you wanted that tree taken out," he ventured. "My husband's taking care of it." I said. "Now, I don't know how long I can hold onto him, so maybe you better go on your way."
He had barely enough sense to walk quickly instead of run. Brandy wouldn't move until he was back on the street.
My son told me the guy had jumped over the porch railing in an attempt to escape the Jaws of Death.
WG
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Well I guess my Iguana will fit right in with the turtle. Mr. Ron is his name. been with me since 99, when I drove from Ca to Ma. in 2000, It was kind off chilly in may so just before Colorado I put him on dashboard to stay warm. Had burlap bag up there fot him to lay on and crawl into when it was time to sleep. Rode pretty much the whole trip on the dash, between food stops. I cant figure out wether it thinks it's a dog or a cat. Will follow me around like a dog but like a cat it won't come to me when I call. when I pet it's sides it leans into it like a purring cat but like a dog it likes to nip sometimes. Do not let an Iguana nip you. I keep him in a large ferret cage modified a bit. Let him walk around a bit. it has a personality.
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rascal
I had a twig dog that traveled with me all through my twi years. She was the one thing they didn`t talk me out of permanently.
One of my favorite memories was when we lived in a way home. My TC roomie was eating and tormenting her.
She had the dog sit and was excitedly brandishing a hard boiled egg under the dogs nose and yanking it away, acting like she was going to give it to her and then snatch again laughing and hummining in a sing song way ahh ha ha ha haaa haaa..naa hnahh...and just laughing uproariously while my patient pooch looked at her intently.
Finally after a bit more of the torment and one last passs under my mindy`s nose, the girl shoved the entire egg in her mouth.
My dog never moved a hair....but all of a sudden, the girl choked, the entire egg soared up in the air in a perfect trajectory that carried it to mindy...all my dog had to do was open her mouth and snap her jaws shut on her treat.
The tc stood there in open mouth shock, and I finally found my voice and said.... *don`t tell ME that dog`s can`t operate the power of believing* lmao....
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Watered Garden
Another Brandy story:
Brandy hated for me to sleep in late. Mr. Garden would get up and let him out and all, but I enjoyed my Saturday morning snooze. However, he set about to change this.
First, he would stand at the foot of the bed and stare fixedly at my face. It is an eerie sensation to be stared at in one's sleep; some primitive part of the brain begins to stir uneasily.
If that didn't work, he would come over to my side of the bed, stick his big wet nose in my ear and inhale deeply. This usually worked, as it seemed like my brain would be sucked out by his vacuum-cleaner like proboscis.
However, if that still didn't rouse me, he would find my elbow, stick his head under it, and start flipping my arm up until I surrendered.
Once I swung my feet over the side of the bed, he would do a little victory dance.
He was the most aggravating dog I've ever seen. He knew no master but my husband. He would take off on a neighborhood tour and was impossible to catch until he wanted to be caught. No trick worked on him more than once. He was wicked smart, and could be a real pain in the rear.
I still miss him.
WG
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