Lee High School - Huntsville Alabama Alumni

Collins Wynn's recent article reminded my of how pets become a part of the family and I share the story of Rusty, the German Long Hair Dachshund.

Marty arrived in Germany two months after my arrival in 1967 and this was major change in our lives. I had found a small German apartment ($30.00 a month!) that was furnished. I was able to take a couple days off when she arrived but she was on her own when I had to report back to my duty station. This was at the height of the Cold War and we had frequent Readiness Alerts in the middle of the day or middle of the night requiring reporting in full field attire. At first this was unsettling to Marty but she soon accepted these Alerts.

We had only a radio and one station to listen to so we thought a puppy would be a nice addition and being in Germany there were a number of breeds to choose from but we both agreed on a breed we had not seen in the states, a Dachshund with long hair. It looked like an Irish Setter with no legs and after visiting several kennels we selected "Nicki vom grunen", a red long hair. The name was changed to Rusty.

For the next two years the three of us were inseparable because in Germany dogs could go anywhere you went to include restaurants. There was an immediate bond between he and Marty and she talked to and worked with Rusty as if he were a child. One night when I arrived at the apartment she told me we were having breakfast for dinner and had something to show me. Her favorite breakfast was Rice Krispies and a glass of Nestle Quik chocolate milk. As she poured the cereal and stirred the milk, Rusty sat up on his rear and just sat next to the table but then whined. She had two saucers on the table and poured him some cereal with milk and poured some of her chocolate milk in the other saucer and Rusty ate the cereal first and lapped up the milk. She then said "Watch this" and started counting and before she hit five, Rusty burped. She said he does that every morning,. has cereal, chocolate milk and burps.

He developed a passion for black beer and when some of our friends would come for a visit, Rusty drew all the attention and would bark until I wet the bottom of a saucer with beer.

He and Marty came back to the states in early 1969 as she was pregnant with our daughter. We were concerned how he would accept an addition to the family because we had been a "Three-some" for two years. Our daughter was born about two weeks after I got home and when we took her home from the hospital, we held her down for Rusty to smell and observe. To our surprise he immediately started sleeping under her baby bed and after a few days we moved his bed under her bed.

He was great with her even though she pulled his tail and ears all the time. Then our son was born two years later and he looked at Marty as if to say "How much longer will this go on"?

Rusty lived to be a surprising 17 years and had 19 AKC pups with other German Long Hairs that we found. His health began to fail, he could not see more than a few feet so we had to make a place for him in the basement so he would not wonder into things and be hurt. We both knew the end was near but could not really talk about it. The last week or so he lost control of his functions. On his last night, I woke in the middle of the night and Marty was not in bed. I went to the basement and she had him wrapped in a blanket sitting on the basement floor holding him and just talking to him like she had done 17 years before. I asked her how long she had been holding him and she indicated that each time she put him in his bed, he started grunting and whining and the moment she would touch him, he stopped.

For a few minutes it was just the three of us again like it had been 17 years before and he was gone by mid morning. I know he knew time was short but and he just wanted "momma" to hold him a liitle longer.

This is the problem with dogs, they love unconditionally and then are gone. I thank God for having both of them in my life.

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Subject:Collin's Story

Linda Beal Walker

Class of '66

I enjoyed Collins story about his pal, Jake. My best "buddette" was Paddlefoot, a black mixed, very mixed, breed. I had her for 18 years. She was a gift from my first husband. She was the runt of the litter and fit in the palm of my hand when he brought her home to me. She survived the end of that marriage and was awarded to me in the divorce settlement. She loved my husband, but she bonded with me and once when he surprised me and showed up at my front door, she evidently felt the same way I did about not wanting him around, because she growled, deep in her throat, protective, and her hair stood up on her back, neck to tail. I wish I could have been that menacing.

By the way we got the name Paddlefoot from the Clutch Cargo cartoon that was on in the mornings when we were younger. Anybody remember that? She also had nicknames, but unline Collins, I won't tell you what they were, because, as he said, she answered to anything when I called her.

Paddlefoot got heartworms way back when and the man I was dating at the time bought me a black toy poodle, Josie, because he said if anything happened to Paddlefoot, while the vet was treating her for heartworms, that I would be impossible to be around. Luckily, Paddlefoot survived the heartworm (arsenic) treatments and I then had two very smart, loving, best pals. (I had Josie for 13 years.)

Unlike Collins, I do not like being without a dog. Since moving back to Tennessee I have had two dogs - Tippin, who was 3/4 border collie, and very smart. I had her 11 years. Now I have Midget, that I adopted in 2004, when she was 7 or 8, and now she and I are growing old together, both with gray hair, both overweight and both with arthritis in our knees and hips. We make a great pair.

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Subject:Thoughts to Ponder

Bruce Fowler

Class of '66

Most esteem editor,

I regret that I don't have any Christmas pictures to share with you but I was intrigued with your list "Thoughts to Ponder". A wonderful list, worthy of a Nicholas van Rijn, or perhaps even Mentor of Arisia. Such a profound list cannot be left to sit like an immovable stone in one's front yard. Its profundity must be graffitied with banality, and here below is my frivolous attempt:

Thoughts To Ponder

1. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer's history if you die.

You do realize that even the best of friends is going to post the contents to some social web site, don't you? If you are that concerned there are simple programs that will reformat your hard drive after some period of time unless prevented. Of course that doesn't keep the juicy bits from being found and read, just makes the task harder.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

Ah!, but nothing is sweeter than the next moment when you realize you have a challenge to figure out what the correct approach should have been. Failure is the progenitor of learning.

3. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

The you didn't want to but could nap soundly; now you want to but are uneasy. It all balances out.

4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

Microsoft provides it to you. Its name is 'Comic Sans'. I am told by people who keep such statistics that it is the most commonly used font in existence, usually in emails that use Comic Sans as the font. Not sure this is very informative other than providing deep insight into the nature of Microsoft.

5. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet? The reverse of how you open up those folded boxes you buy at Christmas time to hold gifts for other folks. Of course the problem with the boxes is that the tops and bottoms are the same size so they never fit together well. This difficulty does not present for sheets since normally only one, the bottom, is so fitted. Hoka Hey!

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Dog For Sale

submitted by Escoe German Beatty

A guy is driving around the back woods of Montana and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house: 'Talking Dog For Sale ' He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard.

The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there.

'You talk?' he asks.

'Yep,' the Lab replies.

After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says 'So, what's your story?'

The Lab looks up and says, 'Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA. In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping.'

'I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running. But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals.' 'I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired.'

The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.

'Ten dollars,' the guy says.

'Ten dollars? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?'

'Because he's a liar. He never did any of that