Pets - By Robert

 

Some of the stories that follow are about pets that we had along with pets of other relatives, even a small story about pet food.

Dad had a story he would tell about a dog they had on the farm. It was a Collie named Collie. They got it as a pup and began to train it to fetch the cows in the field. The first step in the training was to bring the dog to the horse and buggy. The dog would then be placed on the ground and would follow whoever was bringing in the cows. Dad always smiled as he told the story. Eventually the dog would jump off the wagon, on the command 'fetch'. After a while one of my uncles was telling someone how smart the dog was. Apparently he was on the porch with the other person and yelled out fetch. The dog responded quickly running from the porch, to jump onto the wagon ready to go.

I got my first dog at Christmas from Aunt Pauline when I was about 4 years old. I’m

not sure what kind of terrier he was. I named him Teddy. We lived on Churchill street at the time. Our neighbour had a chicken coop. It seems Teddy got a certain liking for chickens. So dad gave the dog to a sheep farmer that he knew. One day he came in with that smile on his face, saying. “It seems Teddy got a liking for sheep also.”

Much later on, one of my brothers brought a German Shepherd home. He was an avid jogger then and felt the Shepherd would be a nice companion to jog with. I was visiting Dad one day, he told me of the dog. Again with that smile when he mentioned the dog. He told me about the dog’s first run with my brother. It seems at one point along the route, the dog just ran out of steam and my brother had to carry him home. Apparently the dog had trouble moving for a day or two. It was quite a while later when I went to visit my father again, my brother was there also. I had not seen the dog so far and asked him to show me the dog. His reply to my question was. “I had to give him away, he got a fancy for chicken.” It seems on one of his runs, he passed by a picnic area. The dog suddenly left his side, jumped up onto a picnic table snatching some Kentucky fried chicken while the family was sitting eating. I think my brother changed his route after a few days, without the dog.

Dad, having been raised on the farm, did not believe in keeping a cat restricted to the house. One house we rented had rats. Dad got a full grown cat who was supposed to be a good rat catcher. The cat’s name was Sheila. He lifted a floor board big enough to put the cat between the top floor and the ceiling on the first floor. He placed a dish of milk by the hole. We never saw the cat again. For a few days the milk would empty each morning, then one morning the saucer still had milk in it. We never heard or saw a rat again. I can only assume the cat did his job and moved on.

One spring I was visiting my cousin Richard, whenever we got together we would go down to the Ottawa river to take a bit of row on a flat row boat his father built. Suddenly a goose sprang up from the bush and hovered overhead. I was about to step forward, when Richard stretched his arm out saying stop. He told me to look down, we had almost stepped on the next containing several goslings. I was about to reach down and pet one, but Richard convinced me that if I touched any of the goslings, the mother would reject the little bird. Slowly we moved away and turned to leave. One of the chicks began to follow us. So Richard finally gave in and picked up. We brought the bird home and he raised it with pigeons and rabbits he had in a large cage, large enough to walk in it. Sometime later in the year, around thanksgiving, Richard’s mother had invited us for a get together. We were all sitting at the table, when a nice roasted goose was placed on the table. I can still see the look on Richard’s face as he looked at the goose, took a peek out the back window of the kitchen. Yep his pet was now supper. Needless to say he was a little perturb.

                                


Mom told me about a dog her father had. The dog slept under the double bed in the

girls room. One time there was a family reunion and four of the sisters ended up sleeping in the same double bed. It would seem that they all slept deeply, because the bed collapsed sometime during the night. In the morning they of course searched for the dog not realizing he was still under the bed. When they found him, my grandfather confirmed the poor thing had died. My mother then related how one of her sister’s could be dumb at times. Apparently this aunt said. “He’s not dead, look his eyes are open.”

Another time I was with Richard, he saw how much I liked the pigeons he had. He got close to me whispering. “Would you like one?” “Sure," I replied. We both knew that I couldn’t take one of his. The bird would only return to its roost. So off we snuck into Cummings lumber yard, managed to get into one of the wood sheds through a loose board at the back of the building. We climbed up to the loft and higher to the roof, where we found a pigeon nest. The pigeon had flown off leaving two chicks that had broken through their individual eggs, leaving the other eggs alone we each took one in hand. Richard instructed me on how to take care of the chick along with giving me a cage for it. I would call Richard on the progress of the bird and what to expect. It grew to normal size. Flying apparently is normal for them. However when it was strong enough to fly, it would fly all over the house before either landing on my shoulder or back in the cage. Dad nailed a pole on the side of the second floor and we hung the cage on it. I could get access to it by going out the second floor onto the shed (summer kitchen) roof. Every time I would open the cage to feed and add water, it would fly out and soar up into the sky to land again on my shoulder. It would even swoop down onto my shoulder when I rode my bike. Talk about a traffic stopping sight that was at times. It got to the point that I would leave the cage open all the time. One morning I awoke and went to feed the bird, finding it dead in the cage. I could see it had been attacked by some creature. I was however consoled as I also saw a dead cat on the ground below the cage. That bird may have died but not without a fight.

Aunt Alice and Uncle Nathy had several dogs over the years. They were all small dogs. One day Aunt Alice had removed the rest of the meat in a can of dog food into a plastic container with a lid. The next day, Uncle Nathy made a comment on how good the sandwich meat from the plastic container had tasted. She looked into the fridge and realized he had used the dog food when making his sandwich. She never had the courage to tell him what he had eaten.

I was talking to my cousin Bea one day and she related the surprise she had felt when calling home and Uncle Nathy answered the phone. All my life Uncle Nathy was deaf. Apparently the phone was answered. Before she could say hello, his voice came on. “My wife is out and should be back in an hour.” He hung the phone. It wasn’t until she visited later, thinking her dad suddenly got his hearing back. It was the dog they owned at the time, who would jump up and down at the wall phone when it rang.

I have a few more animal stories and will perhaps tell you about them.