Bill
b. ca Nov 1991 - d. August 8, 2006
Bill came to my home when he was a few months old. As a wee pup he
had spent time in the pound, then was rescued by someone who lived in an apartment who came to the
conclusion that he would grow to be too big for them. They were offering him free. I thought he
would be a good companion for Sam, who was then a year old and was showing signs that being left
alone while I went to work all day was bothering him. It worked out well. Much better than I
expected.
The two of them had many adventures and they helped each other in their
misadventures too! Sam was easily trainable. Bill was not, at least not for this inexpert trainer.
I could not for the life of me teach Bill to heel on a leash. Sam, no problem;
he was trained quickly and easily by following a simple technique I read in a book where you walk briskly
with the dog, securely holding the leash to you, without looking at him and randomly abruptly changing
direction from time to time, teaching the dog to watch where you are going. Bill would pull incessantly
and the abrupt changes were teaching me to watch HIM. It just wasn't working as planned. I think he may
have had some sled dog blood in him. So, what to do? Well, for me the answer became clear pretty early
on. I bought a kid's low-slung BMX bike at a garage sale for $15 and a harness. Sam and I let Bill pull
as much as he liked. And pull he did! With all his might he pulled. I climbed onto the bike, hung on
to his leash and Sam trotted at my heel while Bill lead the way, straining into his harness, running
full-tilt. The "block" that I live on is pretty level, but there are a couple of slight grades to
it. These didn't phase Bill. It is exactly two miles around, and when we completed the circuit he
wanted MORE. More than a few times, we almost missed the turn to the last stretch before home because
Bill didn't want it to end; he wanted to stretch it out. The most I let him pull was four miles, though,
as I didn't want to wear his joints out. As they got older, Sam couldn't keep up, so we just walked
around instead. On the last mile, I would turn them loose, as there is little traffic on that part.
Individually, the two dogs were pretty well behaved. But together, they tended
to get into a bit of mischief. I had to really watch them when I let them out, because before I knew it,
they would take off, not returning until they were good and tired and wet and muddy. I always went out
looking for them but almost never could I find them. One time I did spot them out behind a neighbor's
barn, fully engrossed in one of their favorite activities, their noses glued to some poor
groundhog's hole.
On hot days, they would go down to the little creek that runs across my place
and plop themselves down to cool off. Adventure was constantly whispering in their ears, so they would
follow the creek bed to where it merged with the next, larger, creek and then follow it to who
knows where. They always came home, though, usually in the wee hours of the morning, and all wet and
muddy. They could never understand why I wouldn't allow them to sleep in their usual spots on the foot
of my bed when they came home in that condition. In following the creeks, they probably avoided a lot
of problems as it kept them out of sight and off the roads.
Such adventures were not entirely without mishap, though. From time to time,
when I let them out in the morning, they would take off while I was brushing my teeth getting ready for
work. One day, when Bill was still a little fellow, I came home to find that one of his back feet had
a nasty cut on the top of it with some gravel in it. I don't know for sure what happened, but my guess
is that a car clipped him. I flushed the wound with some peroxide and few stitches later he was as good
as new. I got some antibiotic cream from the vet, who commented that I had done a good job with the
stitching. I'm sure it helped that Bill held still without flinching.
Then another time, they took off one evening and it wasn't long before I heard
some VERY loud yelping. Sam had stepped on a muskrat trap that had been set in a neighboring field. I freed
him and he hobbled back to the house. Bill stuck with him with a very concerned air.
The two of them were always pleased at the prospect of a trip to the grocery
store, partly because they got to ride in the truck and partly because it often meant a nice meaty soup
bone! One day, I was in the store at the far corner from the door when I heard a commotion over by the
checkout lanes. I could hear the cashiers laughing their heads off. I turned to head down the next aisle and
who should I see but Bill walking along the end of the aisles looking for me. He had hopped out of the bed
of the pickup and just walked right in, triggering the motion sensors that open the doors. He spotted
me and, tail wagging, trotted over. I led him back past the laughing cashiers and out to the truck and
hoisted him into the bed with instructions to "stay put". When I came back in, the cashiers were still
chuckling at how Bill boldly trotted in and said "He's SUCH a cute dog!" He was always getting comments
like that. The comment that Sam always got was "What a well-behaved dog!"
A dignified dog
Enjoying scents in the pasture
Walking down the middle of the road
Trotting up a drive through some woods
Raccoon treed?
Gingerly walking on crusty snow
Ready to head back to the boat after a day of exploration and swimming
Not sure why he's being so attentive...
Playing fetch
Tired pooch dozing off
Sacked out
Gleaming coat
Patiently waiting to go ashore
The "Yoda" look