Duke

Ever since Geo died, we have been thinking about adding a second dog.  When we saw the grey wolves, we decided that the want had become a need. So we began a search for just the right dog for our family.

The first dog that we found, actually found us.  I had posted something on craigslist about wanting to find a farm dog, and someone responded.  They had a heeler mix.  She sounded ok.  We agreed to meet with her.  But after a couple of days of her neurotic behavior and chasing (and catching) a couple of chickens, we decided that it really wasn't working out.  She went back to her previous owner.

The next dog we found was actually all the way in Portland.  I knew that it was a long shot since we lived so far away, but we have always really enjoyed the shepard mix dogs that we have had, and this was a purebred German Shepard.  I wrote to the owner about our family and situation.  She wrote back that our home sounded like just the place for their dog Duke.

One thing that I didn't ask was why she wanted to rehome the dog.  I assumed that since he is a big dog and they live in a city, it was a matter of room.  Well, that wasn't exactly the story she shared with me.

Duke had been trained very well by his owners.  He knew all of the basic commands, plus he was great on a leash and went running with the husband almost daily.  He was a gentle dog at home, played with the family cat, and took orders from the seven year old niece.  But Duke is a German Shepard.  And that is a problem for some.

One day, Duke was out for a run with his owner when they ran past a child and the dog spooked.  He nipped at the child, leaving a scratch on his butt.  EMS was called but no treatment was administered.  The father was livid.  Strike one for Duke.

A couple of times, Duke got out of his yard (the gate was left open) and he barked at a neighbor and her kids across the street.  The neighbor freaked out and called Animal Control.  Duke had never even left his yard, but he was now seen as menacing the neighbors.  Strike two for Duke.

Finally, Duke and his owner were out for a run.  An off-duty police officer, wearing all black and running swiftly, yelled to the owner that he was passing on the trail.  As the officer ran by, Duke nipped at his hip.  The officer moved and there was little contact.  They stopped and talked about the incident, both owner and officer agreeing that Duke was acting in a protective manner when he was surprised by the passerby.  But the officer had to report it.  Strike three for Duke.

Animal Control put Duke in doggy jail.  They labeled him as a "bite dog" and the only contact that he was allowed was to be fed and have his cage cleaned.  He wasn't allowed outside for walks or exercise.  He wasn't allowed attention from the volunteers.  For 16 days, Duke sat in a cell - condemned for being who he was, a Shepard.

Animal Control explained that Duke would have a hearing where the judge would decide if he were a "dangerous dog" or not.  If convicted, Duke would not be "allowed to live in Washington County."  Read that statement as "Duke would be euthanized."  Because what else would happen to Duke?  He was in jail.  He was untouchable.  He was unadoptable.  There were no options.  His owners were fighting this whole thing with a lawyer, but the code is what the code is.

We were somewhat concerned about Duke's past, but we know how things get blown out of proportion.  We also understand the breed.  Until the head of Animal Control called us directly to "warn" us of this dangerous dog, we had no reserves.  After her phone call to us, we felt we needed to see the police reports ourselves.  And we did.  Nowhere did the reports sound like a vicious dog.  Nowhere could we see this dangerous animal.  We decided to take a chance.

We met with the owners at Animal Control.  Animal Control had to release the dog to them with the agreement that we would adopt him immediately thereafter.  Which we did.  We put Duke in the back of the car and started the drive home.

About halfway home, we stopped to let the dog out to go to the bathroom.  The kids got out of the car to say hi to him.  There on the side of the road, this menace to society, this dangerous dog that was going to be euthanized, rolled over in the grass and begged for a belly rub.  Of course, we obliged.

When we got home, Duke met Dobby.  They got along pretty well almost immediately.  There was a little bit of territorial show, but soon enough, they were settled in side by side on the bed with me.

Duke is a great addition to our home.  We were so lucky to have been able to rescue him from the maltreatment of an enforcement agency that never looked at the individual dog, only at the code in a book.