My Dad Loved His Dogs

My Dad loved dogs - as a kid, we went to the American Kennel Club shows just about every weekend. They were a blast. For my Mom and Dad, it meant showing two different breeds as their interests changed over the years. We began with Long Haired Dachshunds:and then (don't ask me how this transition occurred) moved on to Old English sheepdogs:My Mom was the handler - she took care of showing the dog most of the time and grooming. My Dad was a steward - he organized the comings and goings from his 'ring'. This meant making sure the judges showed up on time and, well, a myriad of jobs including calling clean-up crews when a dog pottied or personally filling in for an absent judge. My brother and I spent the day roaming around, watching some shows, begging Dad for snack and lunch money from his never ending pocket of change. Our dachshund finished as a champion and our Old English sheepdog basically retired without devouring another dog - a real success as this appeared to be her chosen vocation when in the show ring.

My Dad loved his dogs. You would often see him in his chair offering a scratch to Brandy, Paddington Bear, Katie, Allie and his favorite of all time, his beloved Tibetan Spaniel named Bear - "My Buddy Bear". Ironically, Bear was put to sleep three weeks after my Dad had to enter The Cottages of Clear Lake. I will always wonder if Bear missed his master to death.

My Dad taught me to respect animals and to be compassionate. He had a soft heart, and never was that more visible than when he was with his wife, his family, or his dogs. My Dad instilled a love of all God's creatures. He had a demeanor of kindness and respect and was a true gentle-man. I miss him. I bet my Dad and his Buddy Bear are back together somehow.