Gunter 15/10/2005 A few days ago, John Telfer of Scotwise responded to my post, Billy Tucker, with a suggestion that I tell a few more dog stories. What follows is the result.Many long years ago, soon after I was first married, we lived in an apartment near the center of Harare, Zimbabwe's capital city. It was a tiny place on the second floor, with just four rooms, a living room, bedroom, bathroom and kitchen, but we were young and it was sufficient for the two of us.We had no thoughts of keeping any pets, although there was one old and battle-scarred cat who would visit us occasionally, stay a few days, and then be gone. So, when a puppy turned up on our doorstep one night, we knew that we could not keep him, even if we were unable to trace his true owner. One thing was certain - there was no way we could just ignore him. He seemed to have taken a liking to us and, apart from anything else, he looked like this:Could you say no to those eyes? We couldn't either and took him in for the night, instituting a search for his owner the next day. In fact, the search lasted several days but turned up nothing; no-one would admit to ownership and it was as if the little fellow had been sent to us from another dimension without a return address.It was clear that we would have to find a home for him. After a few moments' thought on this, an evil scheme began to hatch in my mind. My father's dog, Rufus, had died a little while back and my mother, heartbroken, had sworn she would never have another dog. I knew that my father was a great one for dogs, however, and that, if I went about it in the right way, I should be able to persuade him to take the pup.The secret was in the breed of our little house guest. Looking at his color and the size of his paws, it seemed to me that we had a Doberman Pinscher on our hands. This was fortunate indeed, for my father would only ever consider certain types of dog and the Doberman would fit his criteria pretty well. I phoned him one evening."Hi Dad, it's me.""Hello, Clive, what's up?""Well, I may have a small present for you.""A present? It's not my birthday.""I know that but I think you might like this anyway. A pup turned up at our flat a few days ago.""A dog? Oh no, you know how your mother feels about that. A stray, is it?""Yes and we've tried everything to find out whose it is but no luck.""What is it? A mutt?""That's the thing, Dad. I think it's a Doberman.""Oh, a Doberman, hey? What makes you so sure?""Well, the color is right and he has big paws.""Hmmm. Tell you what, I'll have a word with Gwynnie and see if I can work something out..."He was round to pick up the puppy about an hour later.I was quite pleased with myself at having found a good home for the dog, especially as my father had taken my suggestion of a name for him. We called him Gunter; after all, the Doberman is a German breed and I thought Gunter a suitably German name.A few weeks later my father mentioned that the pup did not seem to be growing much. I told him to give it time; who knows how long a Doberman takes to grow up? He seemed unsure but was prepared to wait. And so it went for a few weeks: the occasional grumble about the puppy not growing but no question of not keeping it.It was several months later when I was visiting my parents that my father pronounced his verdict. "It's not a Doberman at all," he said to me one day. "If you ask me, the damn thing's a Manchester Terrier."I had no idea what a Manchester Terrier was and asked him what they looked like. He pointed at the dog lying at his feet. "Like that," he said. It was obvious now that Gunter just wasn't going to get any bigger - he was an adult dog already. I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. By that time my mother had taken a liking to Gunter and he had become part of the family. My father was stuck with him and knew it.And so, for many years, Gunter was the family dog. My father eventually got over his disappointment but he was never as keen on his "Manchester Terrier" as he was on the other rough, tough dogs he'd owned before. In some ways Gunter was a sad case; he must have had rough treatment before he found us for he was always a little cowed as though expecting to be beaten. But his efforts to please were so comical that everyone liked him, even my father admitting on rare occasions that "the dog isn't really so bad".I'm not sure that he ever forgave me for putting one over him, however, even if it was unintentional. Well, slightly unintentional; Gunter's paws weren't all that big, after all...From the photograph above, it seems that Manchester Terriers' ears are sometimes clipped. Gunter's never were so he looked very much like the dog in the picture except that his ears flopped down.
Clive
Janus Oh I love to hear a good dog story Clive, thank you for that. Thank you especially for the pictures, it made me want to go and get another pet and get myself evicted. I agree who couldn't say yes to those little eyes. Its pretty much how I got all my pets, they would come from another dimension. In the summer my dad would keep the door open in his store, and you would be amazed at how a dog would just walk in and lay down by the back room as if an angel was saying "It's safe here." My dad was always the first to say we couldn't get a new dog, always the first to give in and keep the dog, and always the first to cry if anything happened to the dog. He just hated getting attached, but his heart always got in the way. Date Added: 15/10/2005
Mad How come I know nothing of this "Gunther" eh? Very suspicious if you ask me... Date Added: 15/10/2005
Gone Away Your dad sounds very much like mine, Janus. Tough as old boots on the outside but never could resist a dog. With me, it's different - it's gotta be a Stafford! ;) Date Added: 15/10/2005
Gone Away You weren't even born when Gunter found us, Mad. And then later we moved to Bulawayo so, by the time you were old enough to get to know him, we were long gone. Date Added: 15/10/2005
Matt Hmm... Dog stories, eh? Okay, I have a funny one of those! Long ago, before I joined the "professional" world, I worked as a manager of a shop that did engraving. One of the items that we sold was dog tags of various types and sizes. One day a man came in to my little shop and ordered a plastic dog tag. It was a red one with white plastic underneath so that when we did the engraving thing on it, the letters were white. The name of the dog was Aruba. So I had to ask, "How did your dog get his name?". The owner, who was an older man than I, probably in his late 50's, retired, and was at the time wearing a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and leather flip flops said that he and his wife had gone to Aruba for a vacation and had just returned a couple weeks ago. While in Aruba, they stayed in a little bungalow on the beach, and this dog came around and visited them every day while they were there. They tried to find the owner without success and talked to the local authorities who said that he was probably a stray and that they could take him if they wanted to. So they did. They had to get him many shots and wait 10 days while he was in quarantine to make sure he didn't have any tropical doggie diseases, but he was now happily living with them here in the U.S. And that was why his name is Aruba. He showed me a picture of a very cute, mischievous looking, beagle-like dog. Anyway, I finished up making the dog tag, put it in a nice little gift box so the dog could open it (his idea, not mine LOL) and he went on his way. In that business, you see the same people now and then. People who engrave once, will often come back for other things. So it didn't surprise me when he showed up again a week or so later. But when he told me what he wanted to order, I had to ask, "Umm... didn't we just make one of these last week?", to which the old man replied "Yes, you sure did. And it was fine, but he ate it." "He ate it?" "Yep. Ate it." "I see". He explained that he thought his wife had put the collar on too loosely and so he ordered another just like the first. So Aruba's second dog tag went home; this time without the gift box. I didn't charge him for it, because the story was just funny. So when this same man came back again the next day, I gave him my very best concerned look as he said: "He ate that one too. Do you have something a little less.... digestible?" I laughed and said that yes, we did have some brass ones, those should stand up to him. "Great. Make me one of those." And so, Aruba's third dog tag went home that day. I didn't see the old guy again the next day or the next week, and was thinking that we had finally beaten the little island dog. But I was not terribly shocked when my new friend shuffled up to my counter in the middle of the Christmas rush. He brought evidence with him this time. In his hand was the mangled brass dog tag which this dog had obviously spent a good deal of time working on, judging from the number of tooth marks in it. I enquired about the state of Aruba's teeth. THe man said that they were fine and the dog had not managed to injure itself. He did not know what else to do. He didn't want the dog to get lost and not have any way to identify it. But... the dog had a vendetta against dog tags. He doesn't chew anything else up, but anything you hang around his neck... just doesn't survive long. I told him we had one more option we could try. One of the dog tags that we had was a nickel plated steel one, a bit smaller, so probably harder for the dog to get hold of... but it might be just the thing. "Let's give it a shot", he said. And so it was that Aruba's fourth dog tag left our shop. I gave him this one at no charge, also, but made him promise to stop by again and let me know how Aruba was doing, whether he eats the dog tag or not. He promised. He came by a month or so later. "Do we need to make another one?" "Nope" "So it worked?" "Oh, no. He ate it, too. My wife had a leather collar made for him and had the information stamped into the leather. He never eats the collars." We had a good laugh and talked about other funny dog moments for awhile. It wasn't long after that that I left there and I never did see that guy again. But every time I hear a rambunctious or funny dog story, I always think of Aruba. Date Added: 16/10/2005
Gone Away Now I know why they're called dog tags, Matt. ;) But your story reminds me of a Staffie bitch I owned in Zimbabwe. Staffies are only about medium sized dogs but they're incredibly strong and, no matter how much you try to train them, they will pull like crazy on a leash. Josie, my Staffie, was a dedicated leash puller - she could be choking and still drag me along, so eager was she to get to the fields where I'd let her off to run free. I think the first leash lasted about a week before it snapped. So I bought a stronger one. That lasted a few more days then snapped too. In the end I went through about six leashes before I decided that this had got to stop. I found a shop that sold horse harnesses and bought a long leash of very thick and tough leather. It was about three quarters of an inch thick and two inches wide with a bulldog clip at both ends. She never managed to snap it but it did teach me something else about the toughness of Staffies. I'll save that, however - might make a good post for the blog... ;) Date Added: 16/10/2005
Broken Messenger Hilarious. What else can I say but thank you? Brad Date Added: 16/10/2005
Gone Away And thank you, Brad. :D Date Added: 16/10/2005
Stargazer Okay, that is one ADORABLE puppy. How could anyone resist him? Good story, I imagined your father waiting for the dog to grow. LOL Date Added: 16/10/2005
Gone Away Slowly the awful truth dawned, Star... LOL Date Added: 16/10/2005
ME Strauss I feel like I just won the lottery! A great story followed by so many more. Fabulous. Thank you, Clive, for stirring things up a bit in a whole new way. :) Date Added: 16/10/2005
John Brilliant story Clive, Gunter looks like a Doberman in the photo, easy mistake! :) Thanks for the nod mate its appreciated, and I am looking forwar to more dog stories! GBYAY Date Added: 16/10/2005
Gone Away Thanks, Liz! All down to my great commenters, really. :) Date Added: 16/10/2005
Gone Away That's true, John - forgot to mention that Gunter stood only about 12 inches at the shoulder. But must ration the dog stories or everyone will think that's all I do! ;) Date Added: 16/10/2005
happysam sorry this is completly irrelevant to your post but I just noticed your wba tab on the side, for months I have thought it stood for west bromwich albion, I thought they had an imense army of bloggers, after clicking on your tab I realised I was wrong, I feel so stupid. I think it was the fact the tab is in their colours and i my self am a devout football fan. anyway I felt so stupid I had to tell someone, anyway keepup the good work regards Date Added: 16/10/2005
Gone Away LOL, I think that is so cool, Sam. Took me a long while not to see the Baggies everytime I saw WBA. I understand completely! ;) Date Added: 16/10/2005
Mandy What a lovely post and the dog's adorable. I couldn't have turned him away from my doorstep either. I'm so glad your father saw the funny side after a while hehee :) Date Added: 16/10/2005
Gone Away Thank you, Mandy. I just knew that pic would go straight to any dog lover's heart. ;) Date Added: 16/10/2005
lisa made me smile :) Date Added: 17/10/2005
Gone Away Then I have achieved my object, Lisa. :) Date Added: 17/10/2005
Ken That's a lovely story, Gone Away, a real pleasure to read, especially given the relaxed and leisurely way you tell it - a dead giveaway of the fact that it's engraved somewhere deep inside your heart! I'm a German Shepherd man myself. No other dog would do. Why don't you run an item on readers' dogs. I bet we all have uploadable images we'd be happy to send you - I definitely have! Date Added: 17/10/2005
Gone Away That's a good idea, Ken - I just might do that. Actually, I've been thinking of doing something similar that would involve a lot of readers and I could probably combine it with the dogs. Thanks for the idea! :) Date Added: 17/10/2005
Ken My pleasure! Date Added: 18/10/2005
blue nice story there... Date Added: 13/06/2008
Gone Away Thank you, Blue. :) Date Added: 13/06/2008
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