Boomer

We have had, over the years, many dogs on the farm.  Most of them have chosen us rather than being a rational decision.  We took in a poodle-schnauzer cross that couldn't deal with the owner being at work all day and half the night (she chewed up everything in the house in her anxiety and boredom).  We inherited a collie when we bought the farm.  The border collie from down the road was here constantly with our dogs.  My father brought a small terrier cross with him when he moved in.  You get the drift--we have a hard time saying no to needy dogs.

Probably our most memorable find was Boomer. 

My son and a couple of his buddies had agreed to help in tobacco on a farm nearby.   The farmer sent them to the tobacco barn to do some cleaning and preparing for the influx of tobacco to come.  Upon arriving at the barn they commenced to start sorting the clutter of broken tobacco sticks, trash, and assorted flotsam that collects in a barn that isn't used.  They had worked their way to the corner pile of rubbish when one of the boys noticed that the rubbish was moving!  Knowing that there are several animals that might make use of a rubbish pile for a home, they approached cautiously.  Using a long stick they carefully poked at the pile.  To their surprise a fearful whine was the response.  Peeking carefully, they saw a small bundle of brown fur and  the two frightened brown eyes of a puppy looking back.

Speaking softly they coaxed the puppy out of his hiding place.  Thin and fearful, he approached the boys.  Boys and dogs have a way of communicating that is beyond science.  Soon the pup was happily following the boys around as they finished their job.  When the time came to leave, they looked at each other and with pain at the pup they would have to leave behind.  "Don't look at me.  My dog would eat this pup for lunch". one volunteered.  "Nope, not me.", answered the other to the questioning looks of his friends, "My little brother is allergic.  No pets."  They both turned to look at my son, who shrugged, "I'll take him home.  My mom will take in anything."

I arrived home to find the pup in the living room.  As soon as I walked in the pup sensing a new presence (and maybe a less than welcoming atmosphere) huddled in the corner behind a chair and looked back fearfully.  I looked at the newcomer and at my children, "No. No. and NO.  We already have two dogs we don't need any more ! Besides--have you looked at his feet!  He's going to be a big dog!"  The brown eyes looked at me beseechingly.  The two pairs of blue eyes begged.  It wasn't long until I was worn down to the "he has to stay outside and you have to take care of him" stage.  Thus, Boomer came into our lives.

There are some dogs that are destined to be the great pets of your memory.  Boomer was one of them.  He was mostly German Shepherd and grew to be a massive, gentle dog.  He was full of quirks that completely defeated all my efforts at training.  He had obviously been tied and probably abused.  At least that is the best explanation that we could come up with for the obsession about anything on his neck.  He would wear a collar but I had to sit on him to change it or attach his rabies tags.  If I attempted to put him on a leash, he would just lay down.  Pretty effective when you weigh 80 pounds.  He had beautiful manners,  following the basic commands of sit, stay, lay down, and come with calm dignity.  However, he would not get in a vehicle.  If you have ever tried to load 80 pounds of reluctant dog, you know he won.  Did he remember riding to be dropped at the farm?  Who knows.  I finally gave up trying to change him.

For all his size and looks (German shepherds can look very intimidating) he was the most loving and gentle dog we have ever had.  He loved children and would allow them to pull and tug at him with an expression of doggy happiness.  He could be found watching over the kittens in the barn with a benevolent eye.  He happily followed the kids in whatever adventures they came up with on the farm, keeping them firmly under his supervision.  In fact, he took his responsibility as guardian very seriously, watching over all the residents of his farm.

That included me.  We soon noticed that when I was alone on the farm (meaning hubby wasn't around) that Boomer became my protector.  When someone would stop by to see if we had bulls for sale or to see if hubby was there, Boomer would place himself, quietly and calmly between the visitor and me.  There he would sit, exhibiting absolutely no threat, but stating clearly, "You have to go through me to get to my people". 

He was a special dog.