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Mushie
aka:Hobo Dog,
Mushipoopinsky, Mooshka, Mushipoo,
The Story of Mushie Mush, a German Shepherd-Husky mix with one brown eye and one blue eye, wasn't our dog. She belonged to neighbors who really didn't want her. They had three other dogs and they wouldn't let Mush into their house. She wandered the streets all day and night, living on bowls of food left on our neighborhood porches. This was her life for the first three years. It was February, 1979 and we had just had a blizzard. The children were off from school and had just come in from sledding to warm up. I found my son, Marty in the kitchen mixing together a bowl of leftovers from the refrigerator. I asked him what he was up to and he told me that Mush had had another litter of puppies under a neighbor's woodpile. This was her third litter in a row. We got into our station wagon and went to the woodpile. We picked up the puppies and put them into a box in the back of the wagon. Mush jumped in and we drove to her owner's house. I knocked at the door and asked them if they wanted her. They said they were going to take her to the pound. I asked if we could keep her and they said yes. So that is how we got the best dog ever to walk the face of this earth. Mush was a street dog. She was used to wandering and our fenced in yard wouldn't hold her. So we soon gave up and removed the fence. We were fortunate to have the puppies, because without them she wouldn't have had a reason to return to us. Over the next six weeks she truly became our dog. In the evening she would get her puppies settled and come sit at our feet. She would look at us with such love and gratitude in her eyes. We were falling in love with her, too. She was a kind and gentle animal. At the end of the six weeks we found homes for the puppies and by then Mushie was truly our dog. Each day she would follow the boys to the bus stop and wait for them to be picked up, then she would trot on home. One day I received an early morning call from the principal that my son, Jordan had arrived at school crying his eyes out because when his bus pulled away he saw the dog catcher grab his dog. I promised I would find her and bring her to the school for him to see. I drove around the neighborhood, but there was no sign of them. When I returned home I got a call that Loretta, a 76 year old neighbor had Mush safe in her kitchen. It seems Loretta went out and grabbed the dog from the dog catcher and gave him a piece of her mind while she was at it. I found Mush in Loretta's kitchen finishing off a bowl of food. You could almost see the smile on her face. Whenever you saw Mush she was with the children. She would follow the boys everywhere. Swimming in the creek, traipsing through the woods, she was always at their side. She became their protector. Never vicious, but always protective. I never had to worry about being home alone at night. She was ever watchful, sleeping in the boys room and later in life across our hallway in front of the bedroom doors. She could look really mean with that one brown eye and one blue eye. People were always wary of her. If they only knew how gentle she was.
Mushipoopinsky One day the boys returned without her. We called her and called her and finally saw her sauntering down the street with something in her mouth. After closer inspection, It turned out to be an aluminum foil package containing a warm, hot-off-the-grill barbecue chicken leg. I guess it was a case of grab and run. We did. We grabbed her and ran into the house before anyone came to find their chicken leg. The Next Chapter - Our New Home Then suddenly, one day, we turned around and the boys had grown up. Where did the time go? We moved to another house with two acres for Mush to roam. I was a little apprehensive about the move because we couldn't afford to fence in two acres and I didn't want her to wander off. I had no need to worry as it turned out. Mush was a little older now ( 8 years old), and didn't feel the need to wander. Each morning she and my husband would patrol the property boundaries sniffing here and sniffing there. (Mushie, not my husband.) When she was satisfied that we had not been invaded she would do her business and they could return to the house. Such a help around the house
Mush helping to shovel snow
Mush helping to plant a tree Early one morning my husband and son, Jordan came running in to the bedroom. Mush had found a baby Great-horned Owl in our back yard. It was spreading it's wings like they were broken and clicking it's beak at her. We covered it with a jacket and took it to the bird rescue, figuring that it was hurt. We found out that it was unharmed, and the behavior it was displaying was a defense mechanism used to ward off it's enemies. We left it there for later release into the wild since the nest it fell out of was about forty feet high. Mushie the Great White Hunter When my husband taught our sons to hunt I started a family tradition. I promised that I would have their first kill mounted at the taxidermist for them. Well, one morning Mush was out on her patrol and a squirrel had the sad misfortune of falling out of a tree right into her mouth. She shook it and killed it before we could get to her. So off to the taxidermist we went with Mushie's first kill. After all, she was part of the family.
Mush and her squirrel One day, my husband had a call at work from our alarm company that someone had invaded our home. My husband hurried home from work and met a State Trooper in the driveway. The officer found the bathroom window opened so he had drawn his gun and quietly entered through the window. Mush met him in the hallway and laid on her back exposing her belly for a rub. No one had actually gotten in. The alarm scared them off. We had the alarm as much to protect Mush as to protect our house. Although she was an excellent guard dog, she lacked the aggressiveness to follow through. This was one of her strengths. As I said, if only they knew how gentle she was. The years passed quickly and Mush patrolled faithfully. She wasn't allowed on the couch, but when we came in from doing errands we would find her with her back legs on the couch and her front legs on the floor, paused halfway off of the couch with a remorseful look on her face. As time went on, we would find her asleep there, never even hearing us enter the house.
Caught Again! Then before we knew it, Mush was seventeen years old and her health was failing. It was time to make the hardest decision in our lives. The hardest thing we ever had to do. Our best friend was about to leave us. We called the vet and he came to the house to put her painlessly to sleep. My husband and I cried as we buried her and placed a slate plaque with her name on it atop her grave. Our dear companion was gone. We haven't replaced her. No dog could. There isn't a day that goes by that we don't think of her. We only have to look at her squirrel and the memories come rushing back.
Mooshka at 17 years old You will always be in our hearts, Mush.
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Credit for the float load goes to
© Carol Kane - March 2002 |
