Every boy should grow up with a dog.  Rearing a dog teaches a kid the lesson of

responsibility.  Rearing a dog teaches a kid the lesson of loyalty.  Rearing a dog

teaches a kid the lesson of true friendship.  Rearing a dog teaches a kid the lesson of

love.  Finally, rearing a dog teaches a kid the lesson of life's cycle from birth to death. 

I am sure many additional theories are floating around in some college curriculums,

both undergraduate and graduate, about kids and their pets, especially their dogs. 

However, the one truth about a kid and his dog that stands infallibly throughout all

generations, all economic classes, and all civilizations is the fact that a dog is truly

man's best friend.

 

Just as Timmy had Lassie, Roy Rogers had Bullet, and Travis had Old Yeller, our

family had Zeke.  Reading today's classifieds of the Fayetteville Observer, I found the

following breeds of dogs for sale: Bloodhound @ $700, Boston Terrier @ $400,

Chihuahua @ $550, Golden Retriever @ $350, Great Dane @ $700, Jack Russell

Terrier @ $350, Mastiff @ $1000, Pekingese @ $300, Pomeranian @ $400, Shih Tzu

@ $450, and St. Bernard @ $500.  By now, inquiring minds want to know the value of

Zeke: PRICELE$$!

 

Zeke was the off-spring of a German Sheppard dad who roamed the neighborhood

and a beautiful purebred Boxer Bulldog mom who just could not say no.  Zeke's mom

belonged to Mr. Reece.  Mr. Reece also owned and operated Reece's Cleaners on East

Washington Extension.  While Mr. Reece had papers on his registered bulldog, he

was probably ready to take out papers with the city dog catcher on Zeke's dad.  Zeke's

dad had the reputation as the neighborhood playboy.  He used his smarts as a

German Sheppard to scale fences, slip into backyards, and slide away unnoticed. 

Most of his escapades were "Strangers In the Night" as the late Frank Sinatra would

serenade.  According to Mr. Reece, the late night visit to his backyard by Zeke's dad

was the worst German violation of America since Hitler.  Little did anyone, especially

Mr. Reece, have any idea what a profound impact his personal tragedy would have on

the Cecil McDonald (RHS ' 41) family.  The result of this invasion was not just a litter

of puppies.  The day these unwanted mixed breed puppies came into the world was

the day a legend was born.  This story is an attempt to share how Zeke came into the

McDonald household and earned a love and admiration that still approaches the level

of Greek mythological hero worship even one-hundred and seventy-five plus dog

years after his death.  Realistically, the day of Zeke's birth was the day a legend was

born!

 

My dad Cecil McDonald carried Mr. Reece's mail.  A mailman sometimes becomes a

sounding board for his customers on a multitude of personal issues.  As Mr. Reece

complained to Daddy about his unwanted liter of pups, Pop offered a solution or a

partial solution.  "I will take a puppy home to my boys!"  Mr. Reece offered Daddy the

pick of the litter at no cost.  Hence, Zeke was literally PRICELE$$, a gift that just kept

on giving!  As a result, Daddy brought home a five week old Bulldog / German

Sheppard puppy and the life of the McDonald family was changed forever.

 

Generally, most owners wait until a litter is eight weeks old before they pull puppies

from their mom.  Zeke was very fortunate that he was adopted by the McDonald

household.  We already had a dog.  Brownie was our little Chihuahua who, although

was a small dog, lived like a queen.  Brownie had no doghouse; our house was her

house.  Brownie had no dog bed; our bed was her bed.  In the summertime, she slept

on our pillow; in the winter, she slept under the covers.  Brownie ate no dog food; our

food was her food.  In the mornings, she ate fried eggs and bacon; in the evenings,

she ate chocolate cake and ice-cream.  During the week, Brownie ate butterbeans and

biscuits; on Sundays, she ate Mama's fried chicken.  When we hunted squirrels,

Brownie hunted squirrels.  Brownie was truly our best friend.

 

Just how Brownie would accept Zeke was the sixty-four thousand dollar question. 

Brownie had just weaned a puppy.  Now a stumbling, clumsy five week old puppy

named Zeke appeared on the scene.  Zeke was almost as large as Brownie.  Yet, the

mother instincts kicked in and Brownie adopted Zeke as her own.  It was ridiculously

funny but effective to see Brownie lying on her side with a leg in the air as Zeke the

puppy ate breakfast.  Yet, this bond made the two inseparable.  Brownie was the true

watchdog.  Alert was her middle name.  Her ears funneled all noises of the world

while her brain sorted these sounds into friendly signals and hostile warnings. 

Brownie heard what Zeke could not see.  She became the bark while Zeke became the

bite!

 

 

To be continued ...