Stormy and Treasure

We lived on a township road. Our closest neighbors lived on the connecting county roads. On the southwest corner of our road and the county road was a small rental house. One of the families who lived there had a mediun sized male dog named Rex. Rex is the reason my Stormy had puppies. I knew the puppies would have to go. Dad was not going to let the farm be overrun with "worthless dogs". At this time, my Aunt E. had to have surgery. I was 15 that summer, and Uncle W. and Aunt E. asked if I could stay with them and help with their 4 kids. When I left to stay with them, I had Stormy and her puppies. While I was gone, (Mom and the boys were gone too, school shopping) Dad called the pound and had them take all the dogs. Mom knew how upset I'd be and she wrote me a letter to tell me. So, it was Aunt E. who had to listen to be bawl. I wasn't really mad at Dad....I'm not sure why. It seems that would be the normal reaction. My response was to harden my heart and promise myself I would never let myself be hurt like that again. In other words I swore I'd never let myself love anything that much again. This has been something, I've struggled with ever since. It had a huge impact on me. Raising 4-H steers and knowing they would be slaughtered after spending so much time with them must have contributed to this problem. I think it's one of lifes hardest lessons and no matter how old you are, it stays hard to deal with.

So, I knew that Stormy was gone when it was time to go back home. What I didn't know, is that in pure defiance Mom had gone out and spent, what to us was a fortune, on a pure bred German Shepherd 3-4 month pup. A beautiful silver and black animal she named Treasure. Treasure had been there long enough to know who her family was. And, it didn't include me. I walked in the kitchen and this blur shot out from under the table and leaped as high as her little legs would take her, grabbed my wrist and hung on. Mom screamed and ran to save me. She smacked Treasure and scolded her. This pup knew she had done something wrong, but she obviously didn't know what. She was still growling deep in her throat and pulling toward me. As small as she was, it was all Mom could do to hold her. I wasn't hurt, not even broken skin, but I was shocked. Treasure hadn't clamped down hard, just held me. This would be her thing all of her life. Not a single "bite", but you knew not to pull away because the pressure would increase as needed. The three of us sat down on the floor at Treaures level and slowly got acquainted. It took awhile, she growled at me each time I came into a room for several days. But, finally she accepted me as part of the pack. It was definately a first step in my healing, when there was no way I couldn't love this dog. She was such a big part of my life till I left the farm after graduating. She eventually died after guarding the farm that was always her home.
You will be hearing a lot more about Treasure. She was my constant riding companion, and knowing she was with me kept my parents from restricting where I rode my horse.

First I'll tell you about the stay with my aunt and uncle after her surgery. The girls, C.J. and L.K. were about 10 and 9 and were old enough to help. The oldest boy, H.D. was about 7 and spent most of his time on the farm with Uncle W. But, the youngest boy, R.E. was just 3 and he was the main reason I was there. Aunt E. couldn't lift him after surgery. They had thought I was 16 and could drive, but that didn't work out. It was, if I remember right, kinda late in the summer. I don't know how much help I was, especially after the letter about my Stormy, but I stayed till Aunt E. could drive and lift R. I remember sleeping on a cot in a small spare room (storage?) downstairs. It was a big old farmhouse at the end of an endless drive. Our farm was on flat land and this farm was very hilly. Uncle W. also raised Angus cattle, as did all the family. The farm also has a very large pond or very small lake, with an island. I remember an island, but I don't remember ever being on it. Maybe it was a swampy knoll in the middle of the pond. I'm pretty sure there was a tree. (I'll have to ask the cousins. Now, I'm curious.) Anyway, one of my Uncle's favorite stories involves the row boat and his pond. He and the kids and I were in the boat and he teased me into taking the oars. If you've ever rowed, you know you have to put your back into it. And a boat full of people is heavier than being alone. This 15 year old girl wasn't going to be defeated and I worked hard. But, I didn't seem to be getting anywhere, and my Uncle was doing a lot of laughing at me. I didn't find out till I had finally gotten us to shore that he had dropped an anchor. I was dragging half the pond with that boat! This little story still comes up at family gatherings when Uncle W. gets a chance. I have my own story to drag up at our gatherings. Young R. was a terror. I carried him everywhere. My other chores were sweeping the kitchen floor with a broom, (I hated that one, it was a big kitchen....and four kids drag in a lot, not to mention their father back from the barn.) helping with meals and whatever and doing the dishes. Every time I was standing at the sink, R. would crawl up behind me and bite my ankle. He has taken a lot of teasing over the years about that one. He says I always bring it up. Isn't that what families are for?