When I was young, an Old English Sheepdog found it’s way to our home out in the
country. I was so excited cause I really wanted a dog and I knew that God had answered
my prayers! Hallelujah! My parents were skeptical, they explained that there was a slim
chance that a pure-bred dog would just show up on our front doorstep not belonging to
anyone. So they put an advertisement in the newspaper and sure enough we got a call.
I was so disheartened to give up my new found friend. The lady she belonged to was so
excited to get her back she promised us “the pick of the litter” from her next batch of
puppies. Months later we got a call saying the puppies were ready, but there was a
mishap! Somehow a poodle got in the mix. I didn’t care, a dog was a dog as far as I was
concerned. My impatient childish “I want it now” attitude couldn’t wait a moment longer
for another batch just to get a purebred. So we brought home a male and called him
“Tigger” because he bounced a lot!
My dog and I had great adventures and we’re inseparable A year later we moved to a
chicken farm in Valleyford, WA. We didn’t know how the dog would react to the
chickens, so we kept him out of the chicken houses. There were four large buildings
which held 10,000 chickens each with 7 birds to a cage. Once in awhile a chicken or two
would get out and it was my job to catch them and put them back into the cage.
One day the door was opened to one of the buildings and Tigger bounced in. I went
dashing after him to catch him before he harmed any of the loose chickens. What I found
was astounding! He had rounded up some chickens and held them in a corner. He never
hurt them at all, he just kept them there for me to pick up and put them back in their
cages. Well, after that episode my job got considerably easier! When I saw a loose bird
I would get Tigger and have him chase it down and hold it for me. We were a dynamic
team; smoother than Simon and Garfunkel, faster than a fighter jet, more powerful than a
punch line. Life was grand and I was nine!
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