GOOD DOG LIZZIE

Lizzie couldn't go when her family moved to Colorado. She came to live with us.

Lizzie had lived in a safe environment. She had a tall stockade fence between her and whatever was on the other side. She was very brave and protected her family by barking. Good dog, Lizzie.

It was nearly dark the day I brought her home. She enjoyed the ride, and eagerly exited the car. The she realized this was Not her home and the man coming around the house was Not her master! She tried to run away-backward-and slipped the collar over her head, leaving me with a dangling leash and empty collar.

Charles said, "You catch her and I will put the collar over her head." (I always get the good jobs.) I tackled her and she drug me around in the dirt. I was thinking, "So this is what it's like to bulldog a steer..." We took her to the barn and the temporary pen that had been built just for her.

Day two. She hid in the barn and wouldn't come out if Charles was anywhere near her. I bought a harness to walk her with, thinking she couldn't slip it off. The sound of the metal gate scared her. She backed up and the harness came off.

Day Three. I say to Charlie, "This is silly! Lizzie needs to learn you are not going to hurt her, so you go let her out and maybe she will be okay with you." After he left I took my tennis shoes out to the porch to put them on...and there went Lizzie out the front gate, nose to the ground. I think she was tracking her way back home!

I went running down the road, one tennis shoe untied, yelling, "Lizzie, come back!", Charles following in the pickup. She finally came back, but I didn't have the leash. (Not that it would have helped!) I held her collar and started for home. She saw our dog, Kojie, and went to go to her. That was good, but I was walking fast, all bent over and my back was beginning to protest. We were nearly to the backyard when Charles came around the corner with the leash. One look at him and Lizzie started backing up again! She wasn't backing slowly, she was running backward. I yelled, "Stop Lizzie!" That didn't help.

She pulled so hard I went down on my knees. I was yelling at her and Charles was coming, so she turned around to run away. That caused another problem. My arm didn't turn with her exactly, it sort of twisted as I held the collar. Now I'm yelling, "Lizzie you are twisting my arm!" That didn't help either. Charles was coming and I was yelling, so she just pulled harder until she pulled me down on my belly. Now Charles was yelling, 'Let her go!" And for some unknown reason I was yelling, "NO!"

So there I am laying flat on my stomach, watching my arm twist and I'm wondering, "How far can it twist before it breaks?" Now I'm yelling, "Lizzie, you are going to break my arm!" Then I heard him, my hero coming to the rescue! Thump, thump, bump...he tripped over my foot and landed-on my arm. Now I had a 50 lb. dog pulling and a 200 lb. man lying on my arm...

I let go.

Very carefully Charles lifted my arm and helped me up. He said gently, "If she wants to go, just let her go." And resignedly I said,

"NO! I am going to catch that dog!"

I took the leash. With my hair in my face, aching back, untied shoes and stretched-out arm I limped out to the road and yelled,

'LIZZIE! YOU COME BACK HERE!!"

She came.

I clipped the leash to the collar. We came back to the house. Lizzie stayed.

Lizzie is with us still. She barks into the dark of night from the safety of the porch, protecting us from whatever is out there. She even lets Charles pet and feed her. I think she likes him better than me.

"Good dog, Lizzie."