"Many years ago I promised myself I would write some stories for my
Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren, and any other little children that
might happen to read them."
"Many years ago I promised myself I would write some stories for my
Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren, and any other little children that
might happen to read them."
My son, who enjoyed a video game called Pacman, named him. Pacman's mother was a border collie and his daddy was a springer spaniel. Now this dog was obviously going to be too big for a lap dog, but he didn't think so.
Pacman very quickly showed how smart he was. He knew just how to cry and beg with his big brown eyes to get pretty much whatever he wanted. One of the first things he did was to coax David for a peppermint candy, which always seemed to be available in a jacket pocket.
Peppermint candies almost caused his down fall because in rushing to beg he ran into David's skidoo and got tumbled pretty bad. When it happened nobody could see him left outside when he was cold and hurting, so I was overruled and he became a housedog.
This wasn't a bad thing because he was very easy to train. One of the first things he learned was to lie under the kitchen table and clean his muddy feet.
I soon came to rely on him to let me know who drove into the yard. He had a very excited, tail waving bark for family. Even when they came with a different car he could still tell. When strangers came he was very defensive and cautious.
Pacman made up his mind in a few minutes if newcomers could be trusted or not. If he felt they couldn't, he would growl if they so much as moved. Years of listening to him taught us he was a better judge of character than we were. We even decided that if Pacman didn't like somebody we should be very careful in dealings with them.
His talents made him an excellent watchdog. Nobody and I mean, nobody, could come in the house if we weren't home and nobody was allowed up stairs after we went to bed. He never actually bit anyone but he did get two people in a wristlock and put them to the floor.
One fellow, who was very inebriated, went to pat my grandson on the head. That was a no-no and the man was instantly on his knees and then released. The other fellow made the mistake of coming in the front door without our approval, while we were going to the back door. He only made it about four feet into the hall, when he got dumped.
Pacman was also an excellent cattle dog. He inherited that from his mom. We could send him left or right or back for one that got missed in a round up. When we were looking for one cow, there was no need to walk through every bush.
All I said was, "Is she in there, Packer?"
He would run in and scout the place. If he could, he would bring her out. If there was some reason that she couldn't come out, like a new calf or because she was stuck between two trees, he would come to the edge, bark and go back into the bush. Many the mile my friend saved me while looking for strays.
The biggest attribute he got from his Daddy was the ability to point. It was hilarious to watch! If he saw a gopher that was sitting up, away from its hole, whistling and taunting him, Packman would stop dead in his tracks and stare at it.
His tail stuck out straight behind, one front foot came up ever so slowly and the very deliberate, slow advance toward the gopher started. He never took his eyes off of it as he moved closer and closer. When he could cover the remaining distance in one big spring, he leaped. Most of the time he caught the gopher!
Now retrieving had its advantages, especially if I was trying to get my ducks off the slough for the night. If they didn't want to be herded Pacman picked them up and brought them to my feet, just like a good bird dog should.
Pacman never made a mark on the ducks, his big gentle mouth carried them so tenderly. The disadvantage of this little trait was his retrieving the laying hens and bringing them to the house. He could not resist playing with the half grown fowl.
We were away one day and the young ducks got out. He played with them until three died of exhaustion. There they were all laid out in a row beside the step when we came home. We were not impressed!!!
Jeff decided for punishment he would tie him up to the wishing well, and not allow him in the house for awhile. Pacman was certainly insulted. I don't think I ever saw a more sullen look come over his face.
When the punishment time was up and Jeff figured Packman had had time to think about it, he turned him loose. That dog went straight down the hill to Jeff's house, barged in and peed on both of Jeff's new stereo speakers! Heather was horrified and ran up to tell on the dog.
Needless to say we never tied him up again and he never did such a naughty thing again either.
I could leave meat on the table all night and Pacman never seemed to notice it. But we couldn't go to bed and leave him alone with chocolates or nuts. He just couldn't resist! Pacman could pick out all the walnuts, crack the shells and clean up every crumb himself. He could eat a pound box of chocolates in one night as well.
A neat trick Packer learned was to take the tiniest piece of food out of someone's fingers. Jeff taught him to just smell, but not to take it until he was told. The small grandchildren liked to feed the dog by grasping a piece of meat or bun in a fist and offering it. He could extricate it from between their tiny fingers, while they laughed in glee because it tickled!
He could also sit, lay, stay or play dead.
Pacman was also a connoisseur of fine perfume! When my daughter came home wearing a new fragrance, she might as well squat down so he could check it out behind both ears, because he would beg until she did.
Our dog, Pacman, lived to be over seventy in human years. He was always a hard working and devoted friend. We have never had a dog since he went to Doggie Heaven, because I am sure there isn't one that could replace him for us.
Copyright © 2001 [Nell Demyen]. All rights reserved.