These are the wonderful, loyal dogs of my past.

While Cowboy, Chance and I trained at our Schutzhund Club, I was always in awe of two beautiful puppies owned by one of the club members.  Both of them had the most exquisite faces and the red and black coloring that was becoming increasingly more popular in the show lines.  Later, I found out that these pups were out of a VA bitch and V rated and excellent producer Vopo vom Kirschental.  I just loved these pups, Drake and Danka.
Years later, it became possible for me to add another dog to our family.  I had my first human child who was a toddler.  That was when I called the club member from the past and was happy to hear that she had a litter out of Danka.  Danka!  The beautiful puppy that I had so admired years before and who I hac watched grow up.   She had been bred to a handsome stud owned by Bullinger Shepherds. 
That was when we brought a new and wonderful dog into our family.  A dog that was ever faithful to my children, my husband and myself.  We will miss him dearly.  He was taken much too soon.
His name was "Yanko v. Unserhund, TC, HIC"
(alias "Tag")...sadly missed.....July 20, 1996 ~ Sept. 7, 2003.

Please visit Tag's Memorial Pages.

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As a child, I poured over my dog books.  In one of my German Shepherd Dog books, there was a photo of a beautiful German Shepherd.  I dreamed of having a dog like this.  One day, in 1990, a twin of that dog walked up my driveway and into my life. 

There has been no other dog quite like him in my life ever, and I wonder if there ever could be one like him again.   He was my "Gentleman GSD" and a dog of a lifetime.  His name was "Cowboy".  Now, my sweet friend waits for me at the Rainbow Bridge.    (1987-Sept. 9, 1999)
Please visit Cowboy 's Memorial Pages here at justshepherds.com.

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My first GSD that was not a rescue was SG - Xacta v. Fleischerheim, CGC, or "Chance".  I named him this because I thought he was my "big chance" in dog showing and Schutzhund.   His sire was V Cello von der Romerau SchH3 and his dam was out of VA Enzo von der Burg Aliso SchH3 (a Japan Sieger).  Chance received several Very Promising ratings and an SG (sehr gut/very good) as a non working titled adult, but we were let down when his hips were X-rayed and we found that he was dysplastic.  After some corrective surgery, Chance had less pain.  He was a very hard and high drive dog meant to work.  Nothing tired this dog out.  Ball crazy, he would have been excellent if we had been able to continue our Schutzhund work.   His hip dysplasia never seemed to slow him down much, and he would try to play or work even when he was obviously in pain.  Though we never did any competing, Chance did receive his Canine Good Citizen award.

More Chance Photos and information on Canine Hip Dysplasia.

Bear was our extremely loyal and obedient Golden Retriever.  We bought him to be a companion and playmate for our Alaskan Malamute, Sitka, while we were at work.   In those days, we weren't very "dog educated".  We purchased Bear from a backyard breeder who had bred "so that the kids could experience it".   Well, we learned our lesson.  Bear had severe hip dysplasia and terrible allergies, but he managed to enjoy twelve long years.  This was a longer life than what the vets predicted due to his severe HD.   He was one of the dearest dogs that I have ever had.  He loved to ride on jet skis, golf carts, and snow sleds.  If you were on a swing, he tried to ride on you!  A water dog, he was always trying to save me when I went swimming with him.  He would become so excited at the sight of a child, a ball or water.   Bear's favorite game was playing ball and "find it".  I would hide his ball or bone and have him search it out.  I think the sweetheart was meant to be a Search and Rescue dog!  Bear will always be cherished in Chuck's and my heart.   He was a love.  Tennis ball or bone in mouth, Bear's tail is wagging away on the Rainbow Bridge waiting for us to come play "find it".  (1986 - 1998)

Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft star that shines at  night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die.         
--Author Unknown-- 

I have this habit of visiting the Humane Society.  Already having two dogs, I visited there one day anyway.  That is how I met the pretty female GSD.  Being a GSD addict, how could I pass her up and not get her out of "jail"?   My husband was less than enthusiastic, but we took this spayed girl home anyway.  Her story was sad and I could not stand to leave her in the shelter.  I had to get her out and at least foster her.  We found out that this was her fourth home!  The poor thing lacked confidence, obviously from her sorry past.  I named her "Jet" and after some training and socializing her at the San Diego Obedience Club, I felt she was ready to be placed.  I could have kept her, but I had my heart set on purchasing a dog to show and train.  At the club, I passed along the word that I was looking for a *special* home for her.  A gal in the club who worked for the police department adopted her.  I was sad to see "the Jet" go, but happy that she was off death row and in a loving home with two other dog friends and someone who would love her.

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Driving in my Jeep one day in the 80's, I was startled to see a small, scroungy pup dodging moving car wheels in four lanes of busy traffic!  He was petrified as he ran across the busy street lanes.  Quickly, I pulled over and called to the little fella.  No questions asked, he "flew" to me and snuggled against my chest.  This pup was so scruffy...missing hair in spots....just plain scruffy!  So, we called him "Scruffy".  Original, huh?  Yes, the last thing I needed was another dog, but we decided to help him.  After much love and care, good diet and flea control, Scruffy literally bloomed into the dog on the left!  What was an undefined breed of a dog became the likeness of an over sized Pomeranian.  Scruffy had a dear heart and was especially loved by Bear.  He was the only dog who wouldn't (or couldn't) beat up poor, gentle Bear, our Golden Retriever!

"If you take a dog which is starving and feed him and make him prosperous, that dog will not bite you.  This is the primary difference between a dog and a man."         -- Mark Twain

Newly married, Sitka was our first dog together.  We bought a Malamute because we had always thought they were pretty and I wanted to breed.  I admit now that I knew not what I was doing.  She was purchased from a well known breeder of AKC champions recommended to us by several people.  (At least, we did something right.) A sled to pull would have been the best thing for this girl.  (Thankfully, we never did breed her.)  She taught me a lot about the Northern breeds and we think of her as Chuck's and my first "child".

A wonderful dog...a dog that will always be so special in my life...was Alaska.  At the age of eighteen, after ten years of longing for my own dog and one that would remain in my life, I purchased Alaska from a pet store for $10.   Now in my opinion, no one should buy a dog from a pet store, but I was young then and ignorant.  For reasons why you should not purchase an animal from a pet store, visit this site on puppy mills.  Anyway, it was the best $10 I ever spent!  Alaska was a Sheltie/Smooth Coated Fox Terrier that strangely grew up to look like a Yellow Lab/Whippet cross!  I've never had a smarter and more loyal dog...accept maybe Cowboy.  He was my shadow, my consoler, my nap time partner, and me dearest friend.  I was separated from my friend for about two years when my parents moved into a condo and I had to find him a home.  But this story ends happily.  My other dearest friend, Chuck, adopted Alaska back from his second owner after Chuck and I had been married.  I found my baby under the Christmas tree with a bow around his neck.  He had a good, long life with me(though it is never long enough).  May Alaska be waiting for me at the Rainbow Bridge.  (1980-1990)
Visit Remembering Alaska (a memorial page)  ---  Kleenex advisable.

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As you may have gathered, I loathe puppy mills.  They are the lowest form of breeder...or should I say opportunist.   When I was twenty, I and my roommate purchased him from a pet store chain.  I knew nothing about puppy mills then.  I thought I was "rescuing" the four month old Siberian Husky from the 2X3 foot glass cubicle that he was in.  He had been in it for two months and was now "on sale".  For the price of a pet store puppy, you can go to a reputable breeder and get a better bred and socialized dog.  This Husky, who we named "Lobo", was so under socialized that he was totally aloof from us.  He lacked the usual puppy enthusiasm and did not wish to share our company.  Please do not buy from pet stores selling dogs and cats.  They only promote puppy mills or unreputable breeders.   Pet stores that sponsor rescue dogs and dogs from a shelter are honorable.

"Puddin" was a Basset/mix pup that came from a neighbor's backyard breeding gone wrong.  They had bred their Basset Hound to another purebred Basset.   However, the neighborhood intact mutt strayed in and caused the Basset litter to have a little mystery to it's lineage.  She was a doll though....so much so that my younger sisters literally fought over her!  Follow the link for great information on kids and dogs.

My second dog as a child, "Bruno" the Dachshund, was given to me when I was around eight years old.  He was a real card...or should I say he was a dog that needed some work!  Not neutered, he lifted his leg and marked my Dad while Dad ate his breakfast.  When left alone, he showed the classic sign of separation anxiety:  destruction.  He hated to be woke up in the morning to do his duty and he guarded "his" chair fiercely.  The icing on the cake was when he bit me because I moved slightly as he slept on my lap.  Oh, if only I knew at age eight what I know today about dogs!  (1969 - ???)

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On my sixth birthday, I received one of the surprises of my life.  A sweet Beagle or Beagle/mix sat in the kitchen and licked my face when I came home from school.  I thought she was the visiting neighbor's dog.  I could hardly believe my ears when I was told that "Cleo" was mine.  She was a loyal dog who followed me everywhere.  At my bath time, I remember how she would lay her muzzle on the tub and stare at me with her soft, brown eyes.  When she followed me up the stairs, her tail would slap the last stair that she climbed.  In the hallway, we played fetch endlessly with her red, rubber bone.  However, she would become ill often.  I only had her for a little while.  Unknown to my parents, she had been adopted from the Chicago pound with distemper.  The vets could not save her.  My little Cleo waits for me at the Rainbow Bridge, too.  (1968 - 1968)