His name was Woof. He was unneutered, a shepherd/collie mix I got from the pound. He had the pointed erect ears of a collie. The coloration and long hair of a collie but patterns of black hair mixed with his overwhelmingly blonde coat. His snout was long, like a collie, and his face had a black mask around his eyes outlined in the blonde hair.
The first time he saw me he growled at me. But I took him anyhow. I had him fourteen years. When he was physically able he would have given his life for me or my family, at any time. He ended up biting a fairly large number of people and for that reason was very lucky to have lived as long as he did.
I was doing refrigeration service work at the time and he loved to ride in my truck with me. And he did every day in the winter before it got warm. To ride in that truck was the highlight of his day and his enthuasim at watching me get ready to leave never ceased to amaze me.
I really loved that old dog.
The first time he saw me he growled at me. But I took him anyhow. I had him fourteen years. When he was physically able he would have given his life for me or my family, at any time. He ended up biting a fairly large number of people and for that reason was very lucky to have lived as long as he did.
I was doing refrigeration service work at the time and he loved to ride in my truck with me. And he did every day in the winter before it got warm. To ride in that truck was the highlight of his day and his enthuasim at watching me get ready to leave never ceased to amaze me.
I really loved that old dog.
