Post by Paul on Dec 22, 2004 10:05:57 GMT 9.5
SPIKE - A VERITABLE MONSTER.
Spike - his name of unknown origin, his parentage likewise, but resembling a bearded collie - a long legged Bengi, was the joy and despair of our lives for about ten years.
Our daughter saved him from a very unhappy, brutal puppyhood but was forced to leave him with us initially for a week and ultimately, for the rest of his life when she went interstate.
So it was we became the proud owners of Spike, an under-weight, nervous, very inconspicuous dog. Our daughter had restored his confidence to a considerable degree but it took us quite a time to overcome his fear of people, particularly men with deep voices.
By inconspicuous, I mean his habit of always lying behind chairs - out of sight, very unlike any other dog. Spike slowly became part of the family, he put on weight and responded to affection. He loved to walk, run, swim and ride in the car. We made him very much one of the family with his own doggy door and partial run of the house. We soon realized however, that we had inherited a real Jekyll and Hyde.
His behaviour couldn't be faulted when we were home (except for his profound dislike of being bathed) but the moment we left him alone he changed into a veritable monster. He must have listened - prone behind his chair, for the last sound of the departing car. He then leapt to his feet and literally, "Cased the joint" for something to steal or demolish. He normally had access only to passage, bathroom and laundry but on a number of occasions found a way to open the sliding door into the kitchen and help himself to anything that was inadvertently left in reach.
A covered saucepan of soup or stew on top of the stove proved no trouble for him to lift and place on the floor right side up. The only evidence left of his misdemeanour, a spotless saucepan and floor - never a drop spilt or left.
He was known to open a suitcase and demolish chocolate and dried fruit which had been destined to go overseas - on another occasion to relish a pack of antacid tablets - perhaps it would have helped him if it had been on the same occasion
Perhaps his most inventive performance was when on coming home with overseas guests - we unlocked and opened the front door to be confronted by a very neat and orderly array of the contents of the linen closet, laid end to end, covering the passage from door to lounge - our guests thought it was an Australian version of the red carpet treatment.
We had a large back garden, well fenced with ample room for him to roam. We discovered after sometime however, that he took to wandering off at night. A number of times he was impounded by the council with the severe crime recorded, ‘Dog deemed to be wandering at large.’ - the fines we paid were large ones too.
We were puzzled as to his means of escape and searched without success for a long time. Finally by turning him out with the promise of a large bone he demonstrated the process for us. One side of our house had a steep embankment up to the fence. Spike swarmed up the slope, onto a railing, onto the roof and then made a death defying leap to the raised garden on the front to claim his bone.
I mentioned his dislike of being bathed. This was my husband’s job and it took great effort and inducement and an increasingly irritable husband to bribe, cajole, drag Spike to the laundry and up into the trough.
When my husband died I wondered how I would cope - Spike was too heavy for me to lift and I couldn't have managed such a reluctant customer. I realized that I would have to use the bath and to my utter amazement, when I called Spike, he trotted to the bathroom. With a little help he got into the bath and sat while I soaped and washed him. He even sat in the bath and waited while I went and answered the telephone. I never had any problem from bathing him from that day on. He seemed to know!
He was great company, a real character with many moods - he sulked whenever he saw a suitcase, evidence of a possible absence - he smiled when beach or car were mentioned - he positively glowed when praised he was my friend and I grieved when he died at about thirteen years of age.
©Bridgette Atkins Glenelg, SA.
For an Adieu to Spike, read Spike in Poetical Dogs by Patricia Power.
dogforum.proboards41.com/index.cgi?board=Poetical&action=display&thread=1103361833
Spike - his name of unknown origin, his parentage likewise, but resembling a bearded collie - a long legged Bengi, was the joy and despair of our lives for about ten years.
Our daughter saved him from a very unhappy, brutal puppyhood but was forced to leave him with us initially for a week and ultimately, for the rest of his life when she went interstate.
So it was we became the proud owners of Spike, an under-weight, nervous, very inconspicuous dog. Our daughter had restored his confidence to a considerable degree but it took us quite a time to overcome his fear of people, particularly men with deep voices.
By inconspicuous, I mean his habit of always lying behind chairs - out of sight, very unlike any other dog. Spike slowly became part of the family, he put on weight and responded to affection. He loved to walk, run, swim and ride in the car. We made him very much one of the family with his own doggy door and partial run of the house. We soon realized however, that we had inherited a real Jekyll and Hyde.
His behaviour couldn't be faulted when we were home (except for his profound dislike of being bathed) but the moment we left him alone he changed into a veritable monster. He must have listened - prone behind his chair, for the last sound of the departing car. He then leapt to his feet and literally, "Cased the joint" for something to steal or demolish. He normally had access only to passage, bathroom and laundry but on a number of occasions found a way to open the sliding door into the kitchen and help himself to anything that was inadvertently left in reach.
A covered saucepan of soup or stew on top of the stove proved no trouble for him to lift and place on the floor right side up. The only evidence left of his misdemeanour, a spotless saucepan and floor - never a drop spilt or left.
He was known to open a suitcase and demolish chocolate and dried fruit which had been destined to go overseas - on another occasion to relish a pack of antacid tablets - perhaps it would have helped him if it had been on the same occasion
Perhaps his most inventive performance was when on coming home with overseas guests - we unlocked and opened the front door to be confronted by a very neat and orderly array of the contents of the linen closet, laid end to end, covering the passage from door to lounge - our guests thought it was an Australian version of the red carpet treatment.
We had a large back garden, well fenced with ample room for him to roam. We discovered after sometime however, that he took to wandering off at night. A number of times he was impounded by the council with the severe crime recorded, ‘Dog deemed to be wandering at large.’ - the fines we paid were large ones too.
We were puzzled as to his means of escape and searched without success for a long time. Finally by turning him out with the promise of a large bone he demonstrated the process for us. One side of our house had a steep embankment up to the fence. Spike swarmed up the slope, onto a railing, onto the roof and then made a death defying leap to the raised garden on the front to claim his bone.
I mentioned his dislike of being bathed. This was my husband’s job and it took great effort and inducement and an increasingly irritable husband to bribe, cajole, drag Spike to the laundry and up into the trough.
When my husband died I wondered how I would cope - Spike was too heavy for me to lift and I couldn't have managed such a reluctant customer. I realized that I would have to use the bath and to my utter amazement, when I called Spike, he trotted to the bathroom. With a little help he got into the bath and sat while I soaped and washed him. He even sat in the bath and waited while I went and answered the telephone. I never had any problem from bathing him from that day on. He seemed to know!
He was great company, a real character with many moods - he sulked whenever he saw a suitcase, evidence of a possible absence - he smiled when beach or car were mentioned - he positively glowed when praised he was my friend and I grieved when he died at about thirteen years of age.
©Bridgette Atkins Glenelg, SA.
For an Adieu to Spike, read Spike in Poetical Dogs by Patricia Power.
dogforum.proboards41.com/index.cgi?board=Poetical&action=display&thread=1103361833
