Okay, our new feature, where you the readers send in photos with a little blurb for me to post. It need not be canine related, practically anything will do! However! How to: just email it to me at peter.b.abrahams@gmail.com.

First up is ML. I didn’t envision blurbs of this length – and she did invite me to condense – but no! I’m the medium here, not the message. ML writes about Caesar, her “first personal dog.”

He was born in May of 1990 and died Nov 2003.

I had bought my house in November of 1987. I wanted a house without any HOA so I could do whatever I wanted, having lived in a condo with an HOA for several years. The house is not in the best part of town but it is what I could afford on a teachers salary. Within the first few years I had to replace the water line, the gas line and repair the water heater. There was only a short chain link fence around some of the property and people regularly unlocked the gates and left them open walking from the street to the alley. After I had a break in and robbery I had an 8 foot fence with locking gates built as soon as I could afford it. Had to get permits and everything. I was talking about the new fence and the robbery that instigated it with a colleague at lunch when one of the lunch ladies overheard and was very enthusiastic about the new puppies her daughter’s dog had just birthed and she lived just down the street from me. She thrust the address and phone number into my hand and said her daughter would expect my call. So, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to look. You know how that goes. Their eyes were just open, they were maybe two weeks old. Doberman/Labrador mixes. (There was a randy and insistent Labrador in the neighborhood that climbed their six foot fence.) They were all sleeping except one woke up and trotted over to me and promptly climbed in my lap like he owned me. I got a call four weeks later saying they were weaned and he was ready to be picked up. I foolishly walked down there with a harness and collar to pick him up. (The last FREE dog I ever got.) On the walk back he lasted a little over a block and I had to carry him the rest of the way.

Caesar was the King of the neighborhood for 12 years. He attended the street fair every year as clean up crew to eat all of the dropped hot dogs, and any other foodstuff that fell to the pavement. He always stopped for pets and was especially not only tolerant but encouraging of small children. The neighborhood children who lived in apartments and weren’t allowed pets would come and knock on the door to ask if Caesar could come out to play and he always obliged.

While he was a marshmallow inside he was 75 pounds of big black dog with big white teeth and a deep, booming bark. When we walked down the sidewalk grown men would move into the street to give us a wide berth, and that’s how I liked it, given the circumstances of how he came to live with me in the first place. While he lived, there were no trespassers into my yard.

He was wicked smart and had a great bark. I asked the neighbors once if it bothered them and they said no. He only barked when strangers came onto the property and he learned new tenants within a week. He not only guarded my house but the properties on both sides, only alerting to someone that didn’t belong.

While Caesar wasn’t particularly photogenic, being a black dog, he did have a sixth sense about photos. He always knew when the camera was on him and would turn and strike a pose.
He did have his share of mischief. He was a bit of a counter surfer and did drink out of the toilet. Once when I was unloading groceries he went in the garage and climbed into the cargo area and ate an entire package of Brie. Another time I was putting groceries away and had a phone call and when I came back he had gotten into a bag of flour. What dog eats flour?

He lived to be 12 and a half years old, eventually succumbing to cancer, as too many do. But while he was alive he had the best life a dog could want.

He was the best snuggler and would keep me warm on cold winter nights sleeping next to me in the bed.

While I was reluctant to get him I am grateful that cafeteria lady was so persistent in getting her daughter’s puppies adopted and basically forcing me to take one.

Since him I have had Goliath, Ramses and now Diana pawPrints and Freyja Grey. (All warrior names so everyone in the neighborhood knows not to mess with them. “Fluffy” and “Sweetie” don’t exactly strike fear into the hearts of men.)

After over 30 years with dogs I cannot live my life without one. I tried after Ramses passed and I lasted 10 days before I started looking on PetFinder and the local Humane society. That is the lasting effect of Caesar, that I now cannot live without a dog in my life. I still think of him on Nov 13, the anniversary of his death. For months after his passing I couldn’t say his name, look at his photo or watch anything on TV with a dog in it. But he was such a a great dog that I couldn’t be without a dog for long and welcomed Ramses into my life six months later. Goliath was in between but he is another story.

“Everyone thinks they have the best dog, and none of them are wrong.” – W.R. Purche

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I know you wanted a blurb and not an illustrated novella but there it is.