Rat Man wrote on May 31
st, 2020 at 11:58pm:
I've told this story here before but it's been a while and many members weren't here then. This is probably my favorite of many pet stories. I was seven or eight. My little sister and I were riding our bikes by the woods near the Pine Valley Golf Course. A very tiny, very old lady walked out the golf course gate with two gigantic off leash German Shepherds. These guys were the size of ponies.
Suddenly one of the Shepherds bolted toward me. The old lady started cackling "Fritzy, Fritzy," but Fritzy didn't give a rat's butt about her. He just kept coming, his buddy following him. I tried to pedal away but Fritzy started biting my foot so I couldn't get any speed up. Even if I could have built up a head of steam that would still leave my sister Donna there. Fritzy had a sadistic look in his eyes. He was enjoying my terror. He was the cat and I was the mouse. There was no one around, no help anywhere, and I was screwed. I knew that at best this was going to really hurt. Maybe I would die.
Out of the corner if my eye I caught a streak of movement coming out of the woods. It was my fat mutt Poochie tearing ass like a torpedo straight toward Fritzy. For a big girl Poochie could really move. Poochie was in a righteous rage. "Not my kids, assholes!" Without slowing down a step she plowed into Fritzy with what could best be described as a Football cross body block, sending him sprawling. Poochie didn't wait to find out what Fritzy's buddy's intentions were. She tore into him like a windmill in cyclone. My last vision of Fritzy and his buddy was the two of them running for their lives with their tails between their legs back into Pine Valley with Poochie in hot pursuit.
There are moments in our lives that change us forever. For me this was one. From that day on I saw dogs in a different light. Of her own free will Poochie risked her life to save Donna and I. She was a real hero. She was my hero.
Edit: I found a picture of Poochie. This would be about five years after the incident described above. That's my sister Donna in the picture with my nieces in the background.
Well this is really strange. An old friend from back in the day contacted me on Fascistbook. He knew and cared for the two German Shepherds who came after me. Their names are Fritz and Tina. It's nuts hearing about this sixty years after the fact:
Frank Kemble
Meet Fritz and Tina with me in the middle. November 1965
They belonged to one of the multi-millionaires that kept a house there. Mr. Herbert J Adair ( an assembly line manufacturer with his company making and assembling automatic (job cutting) innovation.
His house was named Stone Hall.
My dad worked for him for close to 20 years and I went in with him most weekends and often in the summer. Mr Adair spent his spring’s there, his summer in Florida, his fall in the German Alps and winter on the Mediterranean. He had houses in all those locations. He had two maids and a wife that went everywhere with him. It was one of the maids walking the dogs that day. They fussed over me bringing me drinks and ice cream when I was there.
I walked the dogs every time I was in there. I had to stay away from that 3rd Ave gate and the fairways. Fritz would chase after golf balls on the course.
Fritz is the dark one and Tina is the lighter colored one. They are both full blooded German Shepards and we’re actually born in Germany.
Sorry I wasn’t there that day. I also had to cook their dinner every day. 5 pounds horse meat, green beans and a jug of beef gravy.
Gary, they were brother and sister.
How very strange it is to learn this about an episode from so long ago. You can see I wasn't exaggerating. These were some big dogs. Poochie kicked both their asses.
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