Thursday, November 5, 2009

Valkrys a Heroine with Fur (True Story)

It was a dark and stormy night back in April of 1992 when I woke at 3am to the cries of fear from a young puppy who had been lost. He was curled into a tiny white-yellow ball outside my window, yowling for his lost mother and siblings each time lightning flashed overhead and the thunder roared. It was pouring down rain and the poor little guy was soaked through and through. I picked him up and he shivered as I placed him inside my raincoat and I searched up and down the street for close to thirty minutes in the torrential downpour for the mother to no avail. I brought the little guy inside, and he snuggled up close to me with a sigh of contentment, and we fell asleep.

When I woke the next morning, I fed him some of our old dog's food and gave him some water. It was bright and sunny, a big contrast to the night's storm. The air was crisp and clean, and the ground was wet and steaming. The little white-yellow shepherd followed my every move and footstep, making sure I was not going to leave him, and happily licked my chin when I picked him up and took him outside. He was very cute, but I knew someone would be missing him.

I asked my neighbor if they knew who owned him, and I was told there was a white shepherd adult male around the corner and they might know. With the little boy trotting behind me faithfully, I headed in that direction, only to see some folks heading my way down the street calling out at least six different names I assumed were more puppies. With a large smile they saw my young visitor and called out to him. Oddly enough, he sat behind me, cocked his head and wagged his tail. I asked them if he was for sale, and they said no, that he had already been spoken for. I liked the little boy so much I asked if any of the other puppies were for sale, and they said yes, they had two girls left.

They told me the mother got out of the fence with five of the six pups last night, and they had been trying to find them. They were happy to find that the bundle of white fur had been well cared for, but I was sad to give him back. I followed them back, though, to view to the two girls. Valkrys was beautiful, a spunky little twelve week old black and tan pup who took one look at me and yapped happily before trotting over to paw at my leg. It was love at first sight.

Seeing her brother and her other sister, I asked what all she was mixed with and got a funny look before being told they didn't know, not that it really mattered to me. Almost immediately Valkrys took to my son, and they became best buddies.

She was a happy puppy, played fetch and tug-o-war, and had the cutest move ever. When you tugged lightly on her tail, she would hop backwards three times and yip, then run forward. We laughingly called it puppy-reverse.

As she grew older, it was apparent that Valkrys was no ordinary dog. At around nine months of age, she was still a bit clumsy, growing in to her large paws, but she was a very smart girl.

One night in the fall of the year, my husband and I were watching TV in the den which was on the bottom floor of our split level. It was a large carpeted area with bookshelves and a door that opened out to the fenced in back yard. Ordinarily, when Valkrys wanted out, she would go to the door and whine. On this night, though, she ran up the stairs, whining, then ran back down, yipping and whining urgently. Puzzled, I asked her if she wanted out, which she barked at me, but instead of going to the door, she ran back up the stairs.

Knowing better than to ignore her plea, I immediately followed, and she ran to our son’s door. She frantically started digging at the carpet underneath it, and realization dawned on me there was something seriously wrong in our son’s room! In the next fraction of a second, I could smell the smoke, and cleared the last couple of stairs and the intervening distance in one leap. The handle was cool as I yanked open the door in rising fear. To my horror, flames were leaping up the wall not more than one foot from my son’s head where he was sound asleep! One more leap had me at the bedside, picking him up and handing him to Jim as he ran up behind me.

“Get him out!” I ordered as I turned to deal with the fire.

Grabbing a blanket from the bed, I smothered the flames, and pulled the cord of the transformer that had started it. The plastic was so melted the wires pulled free easily, but left the rest of the transformer in the wall! Grabbing a dustpan, I levered the rest of it out of the socket and wrapped it up in the now half-melted blanket, took it all outside and doused it with the hose.

Only then did it occur to me what would have happened if Valkrys had not warned us, and I sat down shuddering, as I praised and petted our heroine.

Valkrys went on to do many wonderful and amazing things, such stories as “The Dog Who Beat the Radio Fence”, and “The Ninja Pizza Thief”. She has always been close and dear to our hearts, well loved and well looked after.

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