Elizabeth the puppy dog was given as a Christmas present by a hopeful lover to someone that sadly didn't want a dog or the lover. This person ended up with the puppy though, which she abused by kicking the poor soul down the steps from her third floor apartment. This young pup, small enough to hold in one's hand, did not return to that person nor did that individual look for her. I did not know the person.
Elizabeth found an old comfy chair another tenant discarded into the woods close to the Tilbury Woods Apartments (where I also lived). This is where she hid out in the upholstery. There was a snowstorm underway with about 4 or 5 inches on the ground. Some time after this I was looking out my ground floor apartment's glass door about the time of sunset and saw these little black eyes looking up at me. She was all white like the snow. No one was around. I went out to confirm this and then let her in. She was hungry and thirsty. I fed her and gave her some milk. She was mostly interested in the milk rather than the chicken, she was so young. Then she wanted out, so I obliged. I watched as she went to the old comfy chair in the woods. The next day she was still there. That's when I was convinced this poor little soul was on her own, so I brought her inside. That's how Elizabeth became my dog.
For a week she hid under my bed except for feeding time. At the end of the week, I am staying up late, watching the midnight movie which was showing, The "Pit & the Pendulum", starring Vincent Price. The movie is almost over, Vincent Price is wandering through the castle in this particular scene calling for "Elizabeth" over and over again. Just then, this little puppy under my bed emerges and lays against my chilly feet in front of my old black & white TV set. Eureka, I thought. She just named herself. And she answered to Elizabeth right from the start. She was a smart little puppy and she didn't need to hide under the bed anymore.
Spring came. Elizabeth and I were best buddies by then. I was out walking her when a girl I did not know came up to me. She said she was glad to see someone had this dog and was caring for it. The girl lived in the adjacent building where Elizabeth had come from unbeknownst to me and this girl witnessed her mistreatment, powerlessly. I thanked her for telling me what she knew. Now I understood why this dog was terrified of the stairs. I had to carry her up the five steps from my apartment to ground level anytime we went out. And any other steps or stairs anywhere, anytime for two years. Only then, two years later, would she have gotten past her memory of the third floor stairs nightmare.
She was a great dog. Very smart. She seemed to be part Shelty, part Spitz, part 57 varieties. She was great at playing catch with a tennis ball. It got to the point I could throw overhand with some velocity and she would still catch it. She was one fun dog.
By now in her story and mine, it is January 28, 1979. I am alone, driving home after dropping off a close friend at his house in Howard County MD. I get into an auto accident. On this snowy night my car slid off the road surface and it rolls over. I was going a bit too fast for the conditions (but still well under the speed limit) just as I crested a hilltop. My car alone was involved in the accident. I'm way out in the boondocks and it's the middle of the night. I sustain a compression fracture of a couple thoracic vertebrae. But I didn't know it yet. My 1978 Honda Civic was totaled. Then I got a little luck. A good Samaritan happens by, picks me up and drives me home. I enter the house (I was staying with parents at this time) and go into the kitchen to call the police to report the accident. Elizabeth is there, unseen by me. I am a bit disoriented. My Dad comes into the kitchen from his bedroom and exclaims, "look at your dog's expression, what is wrong with her?" I look down and there is Elizabeth with a terrified expression. I'd never seen that look on her face before or since. I tell my Dad about the wreck. Dad was in bed asleep when I entered the house and Mom, a nurse, was working the night shift. Dad saw I was in one piece, so he went back to bed and hit the sack.
The next morning Mom comes home, hears the story of the night before and wants me to go to the medical center. Reluctantly I do. Heck I'm 25 years old and indestructible methinks, but it will keep Mom happy so I go. X-rays show the compression fracture. Wow. So I am bedridden for a couple of months and must wear a brace for three more months when out of bed. No surgery though. I got off light. However, while I am stuck in bed, Elizabeth did something she'd never done. This smart little dog got in bed with me every night and laid up against the part of my back where the trauma had occurred. She kept me warm there the rest of that cold winter. One could say she had my back. Upon recovery she stopped doing this. Really, this happened. I am not kidding you. Elizabeth was a smart and wonderful dog.
So... I get back on my feet and Elizabeth goes into heat and I decide to breed her with Mr. Wisner's Samoyed Dog up the street. He was named "Snowball". Afterwards she would be spayed. Come late July she gives birth to five puppies, with all getting good homes. The first born, "Wednesday", was kept by myself, so Elizabeth had a permanent part of her dog family. I called the lone male "Jake", the other females were "Happy, "Mandy" & "Angel". The fifth pup, Angel, later renamed "Kabuki", was given to my parents, creating an extended dog family for us to enjoy over the coming years. Honestly, we just couldn't give them all up!
Years go by, I relocate to Florida, get married and have a daughter. Lots of happy times for my girls, the two human ones and the two doggy ones. We had it good until fate stepped in, as it will do during life's journey. I came home late in the evening from work. My wife Jill and daughter Kristen were asleep as expected. The dogs wanted to go out in the backyard, as usual so I comply. I grab some refreshment from the kitchen, wait about ten minutes and then go to let them inside. No sign of them. I investigate. The gate to the yard is open and they are loose in the dark on a moonless night. The electric company's meter reader apparently came by earlier in the day and left the gate open as often was the case. It is late and I am tired, but my adrenaline is surging due to the panic. I get inside my truck for a bigger search as they aren't around the house anywhere. I fortunately find Wednesday (11 years old in 1991) a block away. Elizabeth, now probably fifteen years old and nearly blind is nowhere in sight. I look all night. I look all the next day. No luck finding Elizabeth.
Finally two days later, I find her drowned body in the canal behind the houses on the street next over from mine. A neighbor was kind enough to take me in his boat to retrieve her. Devastation. I cried like a baby. I loved her very much. Everyone did. Everyone cried. The pain stayed with me and the family for quite a long while. I buried Elizabeth outside our bedroom window near that gate, where Wednesday would also be buried six years later.
In retrospect, she lived about 15 years. I am so glad to have loved her and to be loved by her. She came as an unexpected gift, magically out of a Christmastime snowstorm in 1976. Then finally returning to her maker through the call of our Heavenly master on All Souls Day 1991. You can't make stuff like this up.
And so now... she comes to visit me in lucid dreams from time to time. She was and always will be unforgettable and a special one of a kind animal friend.
Elizabeth found an old comfy chair another tenant discarded into the woods close to the Tilbury Woods Apartments (where I also lived). This is where she hid out in the upholstery. There was a snowstorm underway with about 4 or 5 inches on the ground. Some time after this I was looking out my ground floor apartment's glass door about the time of sunset and saw these little black eyes looking up at me. She was all white like the snow. No one was around. I went out to confirm this and then let her in. She was hungry and thirsty. I fed her and gave her some milk. She was mostly interested in the milk rather than the chicken, she was so young. Then she wanted out, so I obliged. I watched as she went to the old comfy chair in the woods. The next day she was still there. That's when I was convinced this poor little soul was on her own, so I brought her inside. That's how Elizabeth became my dog.
For a week she hid under my bed except for feeding time. At the end of the week, I am staying up late, watching the midnight movie which was showing, The "Pit & the Pendulum", starring Vincent Price. The movie is almost over, Vincent Price is wandering through the castle in this particular scene calling for "Elizabeth" over and over again. Just then, this little puppy under my bed emerges and lays against my chilly feet in front of my old black & white TV set. Eureka, I thought. She just named herself. And she answered to Elizabeth right from the start. She was a smart little puppy and she didn't need to hide under the bed anymore.
Spring came. Elizabeth and I were best buddies by then. I was out walking her when a girl I did not know came up to me. She said she was glad to see someone had this dog and was caring for it. The girl lived in the adjacent building where Elizabeth had come from unbeknownst to me and this girl witnessed her mistreatment, powerlessly. I thanked her for telling me what she knew. Now I understood why this dog was terrified of the stairs. I had to carry her up the five steps from my apartment to ground level anytime we went out. And any other steps or stairs anywhere, anytime for two years. Only then, two years later, would she have gotten past her memory of the third floor stairs nightmare.
She was a great dog. Very smart. She seemed to be part Shelty, part Spitz, part 57 varieties. She was great at playing catch with a tennis ball. It got to the point I could throw overhand with some velocity and she would still catch it. She was one fun dog.
By now in her story and mine, it is January 28, 1979. I am alone, driving home after dropping off a close friend at his house in Howard County MD. I get into an auto accident. On this snowy night my car slid off the road surface and it rolls over. I was going a bit too fast for the conditions (but still well under the speed limit) just as I crested a hilltop. My car alone was involved in the accident. I'm way out in the boondocks and it's the middle of the night. I sustain a compression fracture of a couple thoracic vertebrae. But I didn't know it yet. My 1978 Honda Civic was totaled. Then I got a little luck. A good Samaritan happens by, picks me up and drives me home. I enter the house (I was staying with parents at this time) and go into the kitchen to call the police to report the accident. Elizabeth is there, unseen by me. I am a bit disoriented. My Dad comes into the kitchen from his bedroom and exclaims, "look at your dog's expression, what is wrong with her?" I look down and there is Elizabeth with a terrified expression. I'd never seen that look on her face before or since. I tell my Dad about the wreck. Dad was in bed asleep when I entered the house and Mom, a nurse, was working the night shift. Dad saw I was in one piece, so he went back to bed and hit the sack.
The next morning Mom comes home, hears the story of the night before and wants me to go to the medical center. Reluctantly I do. Heck I'm 25 years old and indestructible methinks, but it will keep Mom happy so I go. X-rays show the compression fracture. Wow. So I am bedridden for a couple of months and must wear a brace for three more months when out of bed. No surgery though. I got off light. However, while I am stuck in bed, Elizabeth did something she'd never done. This smart little dog got in bed with me every night and laid up against the part of my back where the trauma had occurred. She kept me warm there the rest of that cold winter. One could say she had my back. Upon recovery she stopped doing this. Really, this happened. I am not kidding you. Elizabeth was a smart and wonderful dog.
So... I get back on my feet and Elizabeth goes into heat and I decide to breed her with Mr. Wisner's Samoyed Dog up the street. He was named "Snowball". Afterwards she would be spayed. Come late July she gives birth to five puppies, with all getting good homes. The first born, "Wednesday", was kept by myself, so Elizabeth had a permanent part of her dog family. I called the lone male "Jake", the other females were "Happy, "Mandy" & "Angel". The fifth pup, Angel, later renamed "Kabuki", was given to my parents, creating an extended dog family for us to enjoy over the coming years. Honestly, we just couldn't give them all up!
Years go by, I relocate to Florida, get married and have a daughter. Lots of happy times for my girls, the two human ones and the two doggy ones. We had it good until fate stepped in, as it will do during life's journey. I came home late in the evening from work. My wife Jill and daughter Kristen were asleep as expected. The dogs wanted to go out in the backyard, as usual so I comply. I grab some refreshment from the kitchen, wait about ten minutes and then go to let them inside. No sign of them. I investigate. The gate to the yard is open and they are loose in the dark on a moonless night. The electric company's meter reader apparently came by earlier in the day and left the gate open as often was the case. It is late and I am tired, but my adrenaline is surging due to the panic. I get inside my truck for a bigger search as they aren't around the house anywhere. I fortunately find Wednesday (11 years old in 1991) a block away. Elizabeth, now probably fifteen years old and nearly blind is nowhere in sight. I look all night. I look all the next day. No luck finding Elizabeth.
Finally two days later, I find her drowned body in the canal behind the houses on the street next over from mine. A neighbor was kind enough to take me in his boat to retrieve her. Devastation. I cried like a baby. I loved her very much. Everyone did. Everyone cried. The pain stayed with me and the family for quite a long while. I buried Elizabeth outside our bedroom window near that gate, where Wednesday would also be buried six years later.
In retrospect, she lived about 15 years. I am so glad to have loved her and to be loved by her. She came as an unexpected gift, magically out of a Christmastime snowstorm in 1976. Then finally returning to her maker through the call of our Heavenly master on All Souls Day 1991. You can't make stuff like this up.
And so now... she comes to visit me in lucid dreams from time to time. She was and always will be unforgettable and a special one of a kind animal friend.
Elizabeth the puppy dog was given as a Christmas present by a hopeful lover to someone that sadly didn't want a dog or the lover. This person ended up with the puppy though, which she abused by kicking the poor soul down the steps from her third floor apartment. This young pup, small enough to hold in one's hand, did not return to that person nor did that individual look for her. I did not know the person.
Elizabeth found an old comfy chair another tenant discarded into the woods close to the Tilbury Woods Apartments (where I also lived). This is where she hid out in the upholstery. There was a snowstorm underway with about 4 or 5 inches on the ground. Some time after this I was looking out my ground floor apartment's glass door about the time of sunset and saw these little black eyes looking up at me. She was all white like the snow. No one was around. I went out to confirm this and then let her in. She was hungry and thirsty. I fed her and gave her some milk. She was mostly interested in the milk rather than the chicken, she was so young. Then she wanted out, so I obliged. I watched as she went to the old comfy chair in the woods. The next day she was still there. That's when I was convinced this poor little soul was on her own, so I brought her inside. That's how Elizabeth became my dog.
For a week she hid under my bed except for feeding time. At the end of the week, I am staying up late, watching the midnight movie which was showing, The "Pit & the Pendulum", starring Vincent Price. The movie is almost over, Vincent Price is wandering through the castle in this particular scene calling for "Elizabeth" over and over again. Just then, this little puppy under my bed emerges and lays against my chilly feet in front of my old black & white TV set. Eureka, I thought. She just named herself. And she answered to Elizabeth right from the start. She was a smart little puppy and she didn't need to hide under the bed anymore.
Spring came. Elizabeth and I were best buddies by then. I was out walking her when a girl I did not know came up to me. She said she was glad to see someone had this dog and was caring for it. The girl lived in the adjacent building where Elizabeth had come from unbeknownst to me and this girl witnessed her mistreatment, powerlessly. I thanked her for telling me what she knew. Now I understood why this dog was terrified of the stairs. I had to carry her up the five steps from my apartment to ground level anytime we went out. And any other steps or stairs anywhere, anytime for two years. Only then, two years later, would she have gotten past her memory of the third floor stairs nightmare.
She was a great dog. Very smart. She seemed to be part Shelty, part Spitz, part 57 varieties. She was great at playing catch with a tennis ball. It got to the point I could throw overhand with some velocity and she would still catch it. She was one fun dog.
By now in her story and mine, it is January 28, 1979. I am alone, driving home after dropping off a close friend at his house in Howard County MD. I get into an auto accident. On this snowy night my car slid off the road surface and it rolls over. I was going a bit too fast for the conditions (but still well under the speed limit) just as I crested a hilltop. My car alone was involved in the accident. I'm way out in the boondocks and it's the middle of the night. I sustain a compression fracture of a couple thoracic vertebrae. But I didn't know it yet. My 1978 Honda Civic was totaled. Then I got a little luck. A good Samaritan happens by, picks me up and drives me home. I enter the house (I was staying with parents at this time) and go into the kitchen to call the police to report the accident. Elizabeth is there, unseen by me. I am a bit disoriented. My Dad comes into the kitchen from his bedroom and exclaims, "look at your dog's expression, what is wrong with her?" I look down and there is Elizabeth with a terrified expression. I'd never seen that look on her face before or since. I tell my Dad about the wreck. Dad was in bed asleep when I entered the house and Mom, a nurse, was working the night shift. Dad saw I was in one piece, so he went back to bed and hit the sack.
The next morning Mom comes home, hears the story of the night before and wants me to go to the medical center. Reluctantly I do. Heck I'm 25 years old and indestructible methinks, but it will keep Mom happy so I go. X-rays show the compression fracture. Wow. So I am bedridden for a couple of months and must wear a brace for three more months when out of bed. No surgery though. I got off light. However, while I am stuck in bed, Elizabeth did something she'd never done. This smart little dog got in bed with me every night and laid up against the part of my back where the trauma had occurred. She kept me warm there the rest of that cold winter. One could say she had my back. Upon recovery she stopped doing this. Really, this happened. I am not kidding you. Elizabeth was a smart and wonderful dog.
So... I get back on my feet and Elizabeth goes into heat and I decide to breed her with Mr. Wisner's Samoyed Dog up the street. He was named "Snowball". Afterwards she would be spayed. Come late July she gives birth to five puppies, with all getting good homes. The first born, "Wednesday", was kept by myself, so Elizabeth had a permanent part of her dog family. I called the lone male "Jake", the other females were "Happy, "Mandy" & "Angel". The fifth pup, Angel, later renamed "Kabuki", was given to my parents, creating an extended dog family for us to enjoy over the coming years. Honestly, we just couldn't give them all up!
Years go by, I relocate to Florida, get married and have a daughter. Lots of happy times for my girls, the two human ones and the two doggy ones. We had it good until fate stepped in, as it will do during life's journey. I came home late in the evening from work. My wife Jill and daughter Kristen were asleep as expected. The dogs wanted to go out in the backyard, as usual so I comply. I grab some refreshment from the kitchen, wait about ten minutes and then go to let them inside. No sign of them. I investigate. The gate to the yard is open and they are loose in the dark on a moonless night. The electric company's meter reader apparently came by earlier in the day and left the gate open as often was the case. It is late and I am tired, but my adrenaline is surging due to the panic. I get inside my truck for a bigger search as they aren't around the house anywhere. I fortunately find Wednesday (11 years old in 1991) a block away. Elizabeth, now probably fifteen years old and nearly blind is nowhere in sight. I look all night. I look all the next day. No luck finding Elizabeth.
Finally two days later, I find her drowned body in the canal behind the houses on the street next over from mine. A neighbor was kind enough to take me in his boat to retrieve her. Devastation. I cried like a baby. I loved her very much. Everyone did. Everyone cried. The pain stayed with me and the family for quite a long while. I buried Elizabeth outside our bedroom window near that gate, where Wednesday would also be buried six years later.
In retrospect, she lived about 15 years. I am so glad to have loved her and to be loved by her. She came as an unexpected gift, magically out of a Christmastime snowstorm in 1976. Then finally returning to her maker through the call of our Heavenly master on All Souls Day 1991. You can't make stuff like this up.
And so now... she comes to visit me in lucid dreams from time to time. She was and always will be unforgettable and a special one of a kind animal friend.
Elizabeth found an old comfy chair another tenant discarded into the woods close to the Tilbury Woods Apartments (where I also lived). This is where she hid out in the upholstery. There was a snowstorm underway with about 4 or 5 inches on the ground. Some time after this I was looking out my ground floor apartment's glass door about the time of sunset and saw these little black eyes looking up at me. She was all white like the snow. No one was around. I went out to confirm this and then let her in. She was hungry and thirsty. I fed her and gave her some milk. She was mostly interested in the milk rather than the chicken, she was so young. Then she wanted out, so I obliged. I watched as she went to the old comfy chair in the woods. The next day she was still there. That's when I was convinced this poor little soul was on her own, so I brought her inside. That's how Elizabeth became my dog.
For a week she hid under my bed except for feeding time. At the end of the week, I am staying up late, watching the midnight movie which was showing, The "Pit & the Pendulum", starring Vincent Price. The movie is almost over, Vincent Price is wandering through the castle in this particular scene calling for "Elizabeth" over and over again. Just then, this little puppy under my bed emerges and lays against my chilly feet in front of my old black & white TV set. Eureka, I thought. She just named herself. And she answered to Elizabeth right from the start. She was a smart little puppy and she didn't need to hide under the bed anymore.
Spring came. Elizabeth and I were best buddies by then. I was out walking her when a girl I did not know came up to me. She said she was glad to see someone had this dog and was caring for it. The girl lived in the adjacent building where Elizabeth had come from unbeknownst to me and this girl witnessed her mistreatment, powerlessly. I thanked her for telling me what she knew. Now I understood why this dog was terrified of the stairs. I had to carry her up the five steps from my apartment to ground level anytime we went out. And any other steps or stairs anywhere, anytime for two years. Only then, two years later, would she have gotten past her memory of the third floor stairs nightmare.
She was a great dog. Very smart. She seemed to be part Shelty, part Spitz, part 57 varieties. She was great at playing catch with a tennis ball. It got to the point I could throw overhand with some velocity and she would still catch it. She was one fun dog.
By now in her story and mine, it is January 28, 1979. I am alone, driving home after dropping off a close friend at his house in Howard County MD. I get into an auto accident. On this snowy night my car slid off the road surface and it rolls over. I was going a bit too fast for the conditions (but still well under the speed limit) just as I crested a hilltop. My car alone was involved in the accident. I'm way out in the boondocks and it's the middle of the night. I sustain a compression fracture of a couple thoracic vertebrae. But I didn't know it yet. My 1978 Honda Civic was totaled. Then I got a little luck. A good Samaritan happens by, picks me up and drives me home. I enter the house (I was staying with parents at this time) and go into the kitchen to call the police to report the accident. Elizabeth is there, unseen by me. I am a bit disoriented. My Dad comes into the kitchen from his bedroom and exclaims, "look at your dog's expression, what is wrong with her?" I look down and there is Elizabeth with a terrified expression. I'd never seen that look on her face before or since. I tell my Dad about the wreck. Dad was in bed asleep when I entered the house and Mom, a nurse, was working the night shift. Dad saw I was in one piece, so he went back to bed and hit the sack.
The next morning Mom comes home, hears the story of the night before and wants me to go to the medical center. Reluctantly I do. Heck I'm 25 years old and indestructible methinks, but it will keep Mom happy so I go. X-rays show the compression fracture. Wow. So I am bedridden for a couple of months and must wear a brace for three more months when out of bed. No surgery though. I got off light. However, while I am stuck in bed, Elizabeth did something she'd never done. This smart little dog got in bed with me every night and laid up against the part of my back where the trauma had occurred. She kept me warm there the rest of that cold winter. One could say she had my back. Upon recovery she stopped doing this. Really, this happened. I am not kidding you. Elizabeth was a smart and wonderful dog.
So... I get back on my feet and Elizabeth goes into heat and I decide to breed her with Mr. Wisner's Samoyed Dog up the street. He was named "Snowball". Afterwards she would be spayed. Come late July she gives birth to five puppies, with all getting good homes. The first born, "Wednesday", was kept by myself, so Elizabeth had a permanent part of her dog family. I called the lone male "Jake", the other females were "Happy, "Mandy" & "Angel". The fifth pup, Angel, later renamed "Kabuki", was given to my parents, creating an extended dog family for us to enjoy over the coming years. Honestly, we just couldn't give them all up!
Years go by, I relocate to Florida, get married and have a daughter. Lots of happy times for my girls, the two human ones and the two doggy ones. We had it good until fate stepped in, as it will do during life's journey. I came home late in the evening from work. My wife Jill and daughter Kristen were asleep as expected. The dogs wanted to go out in the backyard, as usual so I comply. I grab some refreshment from the kitchen, wait about ten minutes and then go to let them inside. No sign of them. I investigate. The gate to the yard is open and they are loose in the dark on a moonless night. The electric company's meter reader apparently came by earlier in the day and left the gate open as often was the case. It is late and I am tired, but my adrenaline is surging due to the panic. I get inside my truck for a bigger search as they aren't around the house anywhere. I fortunately find Wednesday (11 years old in 1991) a block away. Elizabeth, now probably fifteen years old and nearly blind is nowhere in sight. I look all night. I look all the next day. No luck finding Elizabeth.
Finally two days later, I find her drowned body in the canal behind the houses on the street next over from mine. A neighbor was kind enough to take me in his boat to retrieve her. Devastation. I cried like a baby. I loved her very much. Everyone did. Everyone cried. The pain stayed with me and the family for quite a long while. I buried Elizabeth outside our bedroom window near that gate, where Wednesday would also be buried six years later.
In retrospect, she lived about 15 years. I am so glad to have loved her and to be loved by her. She came as an unexpected gift, magically out of a Christmastime snowstorm in 1976. Then finally returning to her maker through the call of our Heavenly master on All Souls Day 1991. You can't make stuff like this up.
And so now... she comes to visit me in lucid dreams from time to time. She was and always will be unforgettable and a special one of a kind animal friend.
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