Defer came to us almost sixteen years ago. My sister found him abandoned with his liter-mates alongside the road in rural Indiana. We were building a new home, which was not finished yet, and my mother was going to be moving in with us. My sister said, “Mother needs a dog!” Despite my misgivings, we agreed that my sis would keep the dog until we were able to move into the house, and then we would make the trip to collect him.
Mother named him Defer, as in D fer Dog. Oddly, some people don’t get the joke.
Defer is part Beagle, part German Shepherd. As a young adult he weighed about 50 pounds, not quite as big as a Shepherd, and larger than the average Beagle. He had Shepherd coloring, and his ears, which were longer than a Shepherd’s ears, flopped over at the middle. He looked like a Shepherd with a Beagle butt. He was incredibly intelligent, and very willful, and minded having to be confined to a leash.
We live within city limits, so several times a day, the leash would come out, and we’d go for a walk. Every now and then, Defer would escape from the house, and he would run across the fields, visiting all the spots that had been calling out to him. His tongue would loll out, and his coat would be muddy and wet from visiting the lake. He’d grin at us as he ran by, his eyes shining with the pleasure of running free. As a young dog, he’d be gone three or four hours before he came home, pads torn from the run. The next day, he’d snooze as he recovered.
As the years passed, he escaped less frequently, and his runs became shorter, but that didn’t stop him from the occasional dash out the door. He began to respond to our “Big Dog”voices, stopping in his tracks, and letting us hook up his leash, and then he finally began to come when called.
We took Defer to what we laughingly called “Doggy Social.” We took the dog training classes with him, and he learned exactly what he could get away with. Unfortunately, we were not very good students. He would sit, stay (for a bit) and even do “DOWN,” IF there was food in your hand, or a treat in the offing. He never learned to roll over, and he never deigned to fetch or catch. All that was beneath him, even for treats.
He was always amazingly agile. He’d lay down with his legs straight back, or he’d settle in with both his hips opened out. We took to calling him our “froggy doggy.” Another nickname that popped up was “Deefy-Doofer.”
Defer was a gentle dog. He was incredible with children. My nephews would ride on him, and he’d let them grasp his ears to stay on his back. He never hurt a single child. We had a boy visiting us who was afraid of dogs, and had become accustomed to Defer. One night he was with us, and I cautioned him not to touch Defer’s paws, because they were very sensitive. As soon as I turned my back, this child reached for Defer’s feet, and Deef responded by growling, and whirling his head around to wrap his jaws around the child’s arm. My heart dropped…..I was afraid he’d have to be put down for harming a child, but there was not a mark on the boy’s arm. Defer simply stopped him, and the boy learned a lesson about paying attention.
Defer has been our early warning system. Until this past year, his hearing was acute, and he could hear things before we did. As a result, there were frequent spates of barking, but we didn’t mind. No one got near the house without the alarm being raised. I’ll never hear the testing of the sirens on the first Tuesday of the month without seeing Defer in my mind’s eye, his muzzle raising to the ceiling, joining the song of the siren with a Beagle howl.
We have a wonderful UPS man who drives one of their largest trucks. He would ring the doorbell and Defer would charge the door, barking viciously. I’d slip out through the narrowest door opening, not willing to risk a confrontation. Defer mellowed as he aged, and one day I decided it was time for them to meet. I opened the door, and Defer charged past the man, totally ignoring him. It had all been an act. The UPS man got in the habit of saying “Hi, Defer, Bye Defer” as he flashed by.
Sixteen months ago, Defer had a stroke, and then a second stroke. We were sure we would loose him both times, but he pulled himself through. He was a bit slower, and a little less stable on his feet, but he was still a full member of the family. We slowed our steps to accompany him, and he became my ever-present shadow. He’d move from room to room with me, resting outside the door to my office as I worked, and following me whenever I left the office for more than five minutes.
Our bedroom had been a pet-free zone from the time we moved into the house. My husband, who is more allergic to the pets than I am, declared that it would be so. He is also the person who announced that Defer would be allowed to sleep at the foot of our bed when it became clear he needed the security of the pack at night. As the months passed, I discovered that when I had to be away from the house, Defer would go to snooze near my side of the bed. I could always be sure of finding him there when I returned from exercise or grocery shopping.
Over the past six weeks, Defer became picky about what he ate. He began refusing one type of food after another. We tried several different types of dry dog food, several different types of wet dog food, several types of wet cat food, only Friskies, and then only Friskies seafood, and then not even Friskies.
As a young dog, Defer developed a taste for cat food. He would bark to let us know that the cat was waiting to come in, early in the morning. I think they had a deal. Defer made sure we let the cat in, and in return, the cat was supposed to leave half his food for Defer. After the strokes, Defer could no longer reach the cat food dish which was on the end of a table, but he frequently stood there looking longingly toward the plate. Cat food is too high in protein for a dog, but when the dog is refusing everything else, you give him cat food.
And when he refuses even his beloved cat food…..you cook hamburger, chicken, steak, ham…..anything that might tempt him.
I didn’t think I was a dog person. If you had asked me any time in the past fifteen years, I might have said that I was a cat person, but Defer has made a place in my heart. He’s turned around three times, and plopped down for a long stay. I’m sure you’ll forgive me my tears. I’ve just lost my furry kid.