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The GOOD AND THE BAD OF LIVING WITH A GERMAN SHEPHERD
An excerpt from MEG & I; A Love Story.
How Rescuing A German Shepherd Healed My Broken Heart
The end of July rolls along and Meg and I are in a nice routine. On the weekends, we visit various new places along the Connecticut shoreline; beaches we haven’t been to, new parks, and the beautiful Mercy by the Sea in Madison, Ct. which is a retreat center. I love to watch Meg as she runs in the waves and does the doggie paddle, and she’s in her glory.
Nothing gives me more happiness than to watch this dog that I rescued, this German Shepherd beast, enjoy her good life. I finally understand what my father means when he always says to me, “I just want you to be happy.”
One Sunday night, after a nice quiet walk in our neighborhood, we get home and I make rice and spinach. I cook it all up and wait to sprinkle cayenne pepper all over it until the rice is cooked and I serve Meg hers on her plate. German Shepherds can’t handle the spices, so now I’m always cooking with her in mind.
I put grated cheese on it and the sliced cheddar cheese that she loves, and after we say Grace, I serve it to her and then I eat mine on the couch.
While I’m doing the dishes later, I let her out on the chain so she can go to the bathroom and I’m able to watch her from the kitchen window. I’m calling her to come back in and she’s not coming, and her face is buried underneath one of the lilac trees that we planted together.
I go to the door, and I can see she’s chewing on something. Immediately, I go to full blown panic thinking one of my neighbors left something poisonous on the ground for her to eat. I grab my slippers and race outside to her, and there is an animal hole there that she has gotten herself into and I hear some kind of small animal whimpering and because I forgot to put on my glasses, I cannot see what it is.
When I look closer at Meg’s mouth, there is some sort of animal inside her mouth and I freak the F out. “STOP!!! MEG STOP!!! PUT THAT DOWN!!”
But she only chews harder and she’s got this wicked look on her face.
Wicked.
I have never seen anything like it. I try to claw her mouth open, but she won’t have it. She chews down harder and escapes me even though she is on the chain. She knows one ninety degree turn of her neck and she can wrestle out of her collar and she gives me those eyes, like Mom, stay back or this will get much, much worse.
I run back inside and get her harness and I strap it on her so she cannot escape. I get her leash and I snap it on and start pulling her screaming, “GET IN THE HOUSE NOW, MEG!!! NOW!!!”
Whatever animal carcass that was in her mouth seems to have dropped and after a struggle which goes on forever, I wrestle her back into the house and I am livid. In one solid second, I have turned into my mother.
I am screaming at the top of my lungs. “God damn you, Meg, GOD DAMN IT!!!!!” I have no idea what she ate out there and our grass is covered in pesticide from the exterminator who handles our massive Connecticut tick problem.
Meg runs in the cage and I lock her in there and I take a shower to wash whatever kind of crap and dirt is now all over me!
I am sick to my stomach and I call the police to see if animal control can come out. I feel so sorry for any animal who is out on my lawn suffering, half dead because of Meg, my wild German Shepherd.
They tell me that animal control doesn’t work on Sundays and won’t be in until tomorrow at 7 am and they say I can call back.
I let Meg out of the cage and call my friend Hannah in a panic. She has so many animals and has helped me before. She tells me her story about her dog chasing and eating squirrels and a possum and says, “They’re dogs. They are predators. They chase and eat things. That’s how they’re wired.”
“Do I need to call the vet?” I ask.
“Nah,” she tells me, “she has her shots, just keep your eye on her.”
I let Meg out of the cage and she knows she did something bad and she sits down and looks at me with eyes that say, “I’m your German Shepherd. And I can kill things with my teeth. I can eat them alive. So watch it, Mom. You don’t know my strength.”
She relaxes and she looks so tough as she stares at me. Her deep brown eyes peel into mine, “Just watch it, Mom. I am a German Shepherd. Don’t forget it. And the little fucks around here better not forget it either.”
In a strange way, I have a newfound respect for her.
The night before when it was thundering, I had to get on my hands and knees and pet her when she was again, cowering in the cage, from her freight. I had to say over and over again, “Honey, don’t be afraid, it’s just thunder. It’s okay, my love.”
And now I am afraid.
I ignore her the rest of the night. I just go through the motions of letting her out, pulling her away from the scene of the crime when she tries to go back over there, and then we go to bed in our separate areas.
The next morning, I can’t call animal control fast enough.
I explain what happened to our Animal Control person, Kelly, who has been here before for the woodchuck issue, which has since, gratefully, been resolved, and she’s over in a jiffy. I’m standing outside with a shovel and gloves on and Meg is inside, barking.
Kelly inspects the area, and I just can’t look. I stand about twenty feet away with my back towards her. “Is there anything there?” I ask. “Do you see any dead animals or animal carcasses?”
“I don’t see anything,” she shouts back at me.
“Really?” I ask surprised. “Are you sure? Can I come over?”
“Yes,” she replies, “there’s nothing here.”
“But that hole,” I point as I come closer, “You see that animal hole, her face was down in that. What is it?”
She looks closer and takes my big shovel and begins breaking apart the long grass and soil, and what looks like hay. “Ohhhh, it’s a bunnies nest.”
“A bunny’s nest?”
“Yep.”
“The bunnies live over there,” I tell her, pointing to the tree in the middle of our road.
“Well, they built a nest here,” she says, as she takes it apart, I hold open the cover of the trash for her while she throws it inside.
“Thank you,” I tell her over and over again. “I really appreciate this,” and can’t help but wonder if Meg slaughtered a baby bunny with her mouth.
When I go back inside, I need to cleanse Meg. I need to conduct witchcraft. I need to set an intention with this dog, because resentments are like weeds – if you don’t clip them at their root they just continue to grow and fester.
I knew if I didn’t wholly forgive this dog, right here and right now, every little thing that she did going forward to piss me off would just turn into a hysterical reaction from me. As they say, if its hysterical, it’s historical.
I gather my spice crusher, a white candle, a photo of Meg that sits on a mug my cousin got me for Christmas, and I mix together thyme and crystallized salt. Together, as I crush the herbs and I light the candle, I say a prayer.
“By my word, I heal all that ails. No sickness may live, In this that I love.”
I place the salt and Thyme mixture on Meg’s forehead and her paws. She sits there looking at me. She does not move. She is ready for her cleanse. “From now on Meg you are not to interfere with nature. You are to mix with our surroundings and never interfere with the vast wildlife outdoors again. Do you understand? You are never, ever to harm another animal again. You are to live amongst nature and respect it ALWAYS.”
I douse her with more herbs and wave my hands over her body. I close my eyes and repeat the words, “You are now cleansed. And I forgive you. So mote it be.”
I blow out the candle and it’s done.
I forgive her.
I will never bring up this incident again.
But I will always remember in the back of my mind, that I’m living with an animal who can cause death with her teeth.
And it can happen at any time.
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READ PREFACE AND CHAPTER ONE HERE!!!
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