Fred's Memoirs - One Dog's Story

Fred came to me in April 1995, as a birthday gift to myself. I needed a dog in the house. The husband worked nights and for the first time there were no people other than myself home at night. My cats played practical jokes on me at night. They would be sleeping quietly and suddenly sit up, ears alert and stare at the door. Or at the window. Or at the wall. Now, I am fully alert, wondering what they heard, holding my breath, listening to hear.... nothing. Then just as suddenly, the cats would lay down, go to sleep and I am left awake, tense and sleepless. So I believed a dog would be a good idea. They are solid, dependable and not prone to playing jokes on the silly human.

One day, driving into town I saw a sign stating Shar Pei/Lab cross puppies, free. So, I stop in and find the Fred. When I sat down amidst the litter of puppies, he came over, crawled up in my lap and started nibbling my fingers. Soon, we fell in love, he with my fingers and me with his huge nose. He was just the right amount of wrinkly, black with the softest fold-over ears.

I took him home, he sat next to me in the seat and within five minutes he had his head in my lap, fast asleep. From the first day he was my dog. He went everywhere with me. I house-broke him in a matter of three days. Fred owned the yard. As he got older, we put in a doggie door and he would pass freely in and out of the house at will. He patrolled the perimeter of the yard whenever he went out and kept his pack safe.

At the same time I began to teach Fred hand signals. He would sit and wait for his food, as I lifted my forefinger up. Then I would swipe my hand down and to the side and he could eat. I could have him sit at any time with that lifting of the one finger. If I snapped my fingers and brought my hand down to my side with my finger pointed down Fred knew to come and sit beside me. If I snapped my fingers and then lowered my hand, fingers widespread, he would lay down.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't teach Fred tricks. I felt that he and I were a team. He wasn't there to be a trick pony, so to speak, he was my partner. He didn't shake hands, roll over, beg, or speak. Fred had manners and he knew to use them. In this way, he became a valued and loved member of our household or, in his eyes, his pack.

My twin grandsons were just a year old when I got Fred so I gave him their birth date. He is a year younger than the boys and they have grown up together. Within a few months the kids came to live with us while their folks were struggling financially. Fred and the boys, Zachary and Austin became good buddies. They all played together and Fred was always careful not to hurt the babies.

Over the years, Fred has stuck with me and I, with him. Fred caught Parvo as a pup. He nearly died, in fact, I took him to the vet to have him put down, because of his suffering. The vet told me to get electrolytes into him and give him one more day. I did so, and the next day he was some better. Within a week, Fred was over the main part of the illness and on the mend. But it took many years before his appetite became dog-like. I had to leave food down for him so he could eat whenever he wanted. It wasn't until much later that I took to feeding him twice a day, yet he never got fat or overate.

During my divorce and afterwards, Fred was my buddy. He went with me, of course and he lived where I lived. The changes were hard on him but when I left him for 3 months with the ex, while I went to Australia, it was even harder. He pined after me and the only thing that kept him going was that my son's family, with the twins, was there to keep a semblance of normalcy for him until I returned. That is the only time that Fred has lived apart from me.

We have had many adventure, Fred and I. We have moved to a new state, lived in different houses, and now have moved once again, to a new state, new home and new cats. When Bill and I got together, Fred had to meet and get along with Bill's cats, Fred and Ginger. Very early on, we realized that having two Freds was going to cause problems so we renamed the cat Buddy. We felt that Fred Dog had seniority. They are all very good friends. Ginger thinks Fred is her boyfriend, she fusses after him, flirts with him and worries when he is outside. Buddy and Fred want to play with each other but they can't quite figure out how to do so. So they sniff noses and share Fred's bed.

Fred's favorite person, now, is Bill. He still loves me, but he LOVES Bill. He is so excited when he sees Bill come home. In fact, Bill calls me when he is ready to leave work so he can pick up anything we might need. Fred knows when that call is due and begins his waiting, on the couch, looking out the window. When Bill's truck appears, Fred lets go of a yelp that can pierce your ears. Nothing satisfies him until Bill comes in the house.

Fred now has everything that he needs, a family home, a backyard of his own again, two cats, like in his puppy hood and his pack around him. He thrills to see my sons and their children come to visit. Of course, he is older and has survived Parvo, hypo-thryoidism, skin disorders due to severe food allergies and now he has cataracts. Wouldn't you know it, I teach my dog to respond to hand signals and he gets cataracts. So at 13 years old he is relearning how to mind vocal commands. Rather I am trying to teach him. I see him searching for the hand signal that used to accompany the word. But now he just can't see it and eventually he pays attention to our voices instead.

Fred has been a part of my life, a huge part of it, for 13 years and he is still going strong. He takes his pill twice a day, eats his restricted diet and goes outside on a leash to keep him safe but he is still a healthy and happy soul. I see his cloudy eyes and I know once in a while he bumps into things because he can't see them. He shows signs of arthritis in his legs but his weight remains the same 45-50 pounds all year round. He is always ready for a walk, for a play with his tug toy or catch with his frog. He delights in being around his pack and his pack has grown now, numbering 14 of us, him included. He is happy knowing his place, his manners never fail him. He doesn't jump up on anyone and he is careful around children.

I watch him vigilantly for signs of senility or of physical deterioration. He trusts me to keep him from harm and pain and I know in his declining years that is my main job. I delight in each birthday he passes in good health and good spirits. This is Fred's story, the story of a young pup who has lived to see his golden years. He won't retire, he knows his job as protector and he does it well. Sometimes too well, since his eyes don't give him reliable information anymore he does bark at things that are harmless, but I forgive him that.

At least he doesn't play the practical jokes that my cats, Jack and Missy used to do all those years ago. That job is being filled nicely by our present cast of cats, Buddy and Ginger. They will suddenly go quiet and stare at the door, the window or the wall. Then just as suddenly they will simply walk away hoping to leave me wondering at what they heard. But, I have a secret weapon, my best friend, Fred. He shows me that nothing is to be heard and I relax. It's good to have a friend like Fred.