Snickers...the furry member of my family.

Our household consists of 2 adults, 3 wannabe adults (aka teenagers) and 1 furry, four-legged, much-loved dog, Snickers.  It almost hurts to call her a mere dog - she is a member of our family.  She was born on August 22, 1996.  She is a large dog; a shepherd/rottweiler mix with the large frame of her Rottweiler father and the caramel colored fur of her Shepherd-mix mother.  She has soft and fuzzy and perpetually shedding clouds of fur.  Now some may argue that a pet can not be a true member of the family, but anyone that has such a pet can surely see what I mean. 

Over the years we have housed many pets. Lizards, mice, goats, fish, turtles, frogs, toads, a bunny and a multitude of cats to name a few, and the death or relocation of each pet was hard.  But nothing bonds with a family like a dog, and I always wanted a puppy.  My husband always said we didn't have the time to devote to a puppy; they bark too much, dig holes, chew everything up and need to be house trained. 

We compromised when he showed up with Brittany, a shepherd mix, that had no home since her owner could no longer keep her.  When we took her to the vet we were told she was approximately 5 years old and a mix of Shepherd and possibly Dingo or Wolf.  You wouldn't think that would make a good combination for a household with small children, but she was perfect.   We never asked the vet, but we assumed she was 'fixed' since her previous owner told us she had never had a litter.  Then came the family camping trip where she met my brother's dog, Marlin - a very large, overweight, gentle giant of a Rottweiler. Now, we weren't sure who the father was until after the pups were born, but once they arrived it was pretty simple to figure out.  My husband brought out all the old reasons against puppies, but the children & I won out, and we were allowed to keep one.  Considering we only had Brittany another 2 years before she died of cancer, even my husband was thankful that we did. The children chose carefully and named her Snickers.  

During those first years with Snickers, we hardly had to train her at all - Brittany did!  Snickers would say a quiet, "yip" to be let in or out, never chewed anything inappropriate, and guarded the kids better than any nanny.  The only time she barked was when she believed someone in her family was being threatened.  When Brittany died, it truly was my first experience with grief over the loss of a pet.  We all cried, consoling each other and taking turns holding onto Snickers as we kept Snickers in the house while my husband buried Brittany in the field beside our house.  As soon as Snickers was allowed out, she went straight to her mother's grave and howled mournfully for over an hour. 

In the years that followed she lived up to the good reputation of her mother and then some.  She spends the nights checking on each child periodically and sleeps blocking the hall to their rooms.  She has never growled at us, our kids, or anyone else's kids. If she's outside napping when we get home, she immediately comes to attention, watching out for strangers until we're safely in the house. This is actually quite comical as we live in the country.  When the kids were little, she waited for the school bus with them in the morning and guarded the intersection until the kids were safely aboard.  When one of the kids was being picked up for a play date, she waited with them and wouldn't allow the kids to get into anyone's car unless I was holding her telling her it was okay. The one time my daughter made it into the car wtihout my holding onto Snickers, Snickers jumped onto the hood and barked ferociously at the driver (picture Cujo) until I ran over to let her know it was OK.  I then had to calm the driver down, but she agreed we had a pretty special dog. 

Now, Snickers has her mischievous side as well. Snickers never begs at the table, knowing she will get her treat when dinner is over.  She prefers to have her treat in the living room, but somethings are messy.  I'll  tell her, "No, stay in the kitchen!" or "Bring it back" and she will slink back in giving me those sad puppy eyes.  But as soon as I turn my back, she sneaks it right back into the living room.

Now that she is older, it takes her quite a while to make it up the stairs and she gets lonely now that the children are nearly grown and seldom home.  She spends more and more time sleeping.  But she still makes her rounds at night.  And she still comes to attention outside while I park my car, watching for danger until I am safely at the front door.  She is more than a pet.  She is my baby, my sister, my guardian, my best friend. She helped me raise my children, and was easier to train than my husband!