This is a tribute to my wonderful dog Brock.

It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was going to the dog pound to see if I could find an Airedale terrier. I had fallen in love with the breed when a friend of mine brought her Airedale to my house while visiting me. He had been one happy-go-lucky guy, and made a great impression on me.

So years later, I had gotten a part Airedale-part Husky female; I called her Allysa. I had decided that she needed a companion. She was two years old at the time and had the traditional black coloring with the brown saddle. Her coat was semi-curly and she had a very fuzzy face.

I put her into the car and went to the pound to see if it was our lucky day. When we got there, I left Allysa in the car. It wasn't too warm, being October. As I walked towards the building I could see a long row of outdoor kennels, but they were all empty.

As I entered the building I could hear barking at the back. I walked up to the desk and asked if they had any purebred Airedales. I really didn't think there would be any purebred dogs at the pound. But I was wrong. It seems a lot of people get big breeds, and after a few months some people find that they are not able to handle them so they end up at the pound. Now, isn't that sad?

The girl told me they had one Airedale in the back and to come along and have a look. When we went through the door to the kennel, all hell broke loose, We were overwhelmed with what sounded like a hundred dogs barking all at once.

I couldn't hear her speak so she just motioned for me to wander down the aisle. There were all kinds of dogs there, most of them small and medium sized. But one thing was for sure, they all wanted attention. It broke my heart.

I finally came to one kennel and there he was. Unlike all the others he sat there and just looked at me, not barking, just calmly looking at me. We stood there for a long time, just looking into each other's eyes.

He was a big dog, with a huge head and jaws. His coat was curly and black, with a red saddle.
I had not seen this coloring before. He was striking to look at. His feet were huge. I judged him to be at least eighty pounds.

Then I told the girl I wanted to take him outside. She opened the door and snapped a leash on him and handed it to me. As we walked down the hallway the other dogs started barking frantically, some even aggressively. This dog took it all in stride, and never even looked at them.

The girl told me he was about one year old, and had been there for just about one month. He was on death row, which meant he would be put down if he didn't get adopted soon. They had to make room for more animals. I took this all in. As we neared the door to the office area, he started to pull me forward. I guess he knew we would be going for a walk. The girl went back to the desk.

To my embarrassment, when we went by a dog toy rack he lifted his leg and peed on it. I looked around to see if anyone saw this but no one had. So I quickly got him out the front door. Now he was all excited and pulled me all over the place. He did some more of his business and we walked over to the car, where Allysa was waiting.

If they didn't get along, that would have been the end of the story. I let Allysa out and hung on to the boy. It was critical that they like each other. They sniffed at each other, and what can I say? They fell in love, and acted like they had known each other all their lives. I decided that I was taking him home.

After a while, I put Allysa back into the car and as I was walking back to the office, the name " Brock" just popped into my head. I looked down at him; yes, he was a Brock all right. And that is how he got his name. I talked to him as we walked and he just looked up at me as if he knew what I was saying.

At the desk, I told the girl I would take him, but as it turned out it was not that simple. There was a lot of paperwork to be filled out and rules to be followed. I shook my head and had no choice but to go along with it. I filled out the adoption papers, and paid the 125.00 for him.

I had the choice of either having him neutered at the pound or getting it done at another place and showing them the certificate. They also had the right to come and see how he was being treated, and if they were not satisfied, they would take him back. I shook my head again. I wanted him, so I complied with all their rules.

I told them I would like him neutered and I would pick him up after that was done. (I would later regret that because he and Allysa would have made beautiful puppies). So I left him in their capable hands and said I would be back the next day to pick him up.

It seemed like forever but finally it came time to pick Brock up. I phoned and was told his surgery had gone well and he was ready to go. I threw Allysa in the car and off we went to pick up Brock. He was very groggy and staggered to the car but happy to come with me. I was able to get him in the car, then got in myself and started to drive home.

That is when the trouble started; he wanted to climb into the front seat. The car had bucket seats and therefore room for his big body to squeeze through. As I drove with my left hand, my right hand was trying to keep him back. It was a struggle, and when I nearly hit a bus, with all the distractions going on, I finally just let him come through. Then he sat in the passenger seat and looked at me, happy to have his way. Geez!

This all happened in the first twenty minutes. After that both dogs settled down for the rest of the ride. You know dogs, they do love their car rides. Brock still had the drugs in his system, so I don't know how he was able to stay alert enough to give me a hard time maneuvering into the front seat like that.

Life on the farm took a little getting used to for Brock. After all he was a city dog. As soon as he saw the cows, he decided I needed him to protect me from them. I don't know why, but he thought that was his job for the rest of his life. We had formed a close bond right from the start. He never did like the cows, or the goats for that matter. Allysa was different, she liked the heifers and would go to them and let them sniff her and I have even seen her lick their noses. She was always a gentle soul.

Ed was even able to train Brock, to help him to herd the cattle around somewhat. Many times he was more of a help then a hindrance. I remember the time I was out there helping Ed to separate the cattle, Brock was off somewhere, hunting I would guess.

Ed told me to guard the gate, and since it was twenty feet wide, I had my work cut out for me. I decided to call Brock for help. I saw that he wasn't near, but I kept on calling. I don't know how far he had run, but when he finally came to me he had foam on his mouth and was out of breath. Before I could stop him he went straight at one of the big cows. She kicked out at him with her hind leg, barely missing his head. I quickly called him to me and made him stay.

I knew then that he would lay his life down for me. I never had a dog like him before. He would always try to keep the cows away from me, even when I didn't want him to. It could be a pain at times.

Both Brock and Allysa were happy on the farm, they got to have all kinds of giant cow bones.
And of course, at calving time, they enjoyed placentas and that sort of thing. I won't go into any more details about that.

When we went to collect the round bales of hay and straw from the fields, the dogs always followed us back and forth, looking under the bales for mice. Climbing on top of the stacked bales was great fun for them too.

Brock was a leaner, as most large dogs are, but he had an extra habit that had me sore a lot of times. When walking beside me he would hit me with his giant head, and it usually connected with my hips. I could never really get him to stop it for very long. But I do miss it now.

As Brock got older (Allsya had been gone for two years), he was not able to get around as quickly as he used to. Amy, one of Allysa's pups, wasn't very good as a guard dog. The coyotes were getting a little too bold for comfort. We didn't want to lose any calves, so Ed and I talked it over and I got the OK to bring home a dog the next time I went to visit my Mom. This was two years ago now.

I smiled to myself, as I had heard of a Great Pyrenees Mountain dog at a rescue place. When I got to my Mom's, I called the owner of the rescue place and got directions and made plans to go out the next day. I took Mom with me, and as we drove up I got excited to see just what these dogs were like.

I met the owner, Sonia, and after telling her a little about myself, she led me around the back of her house. She said she had two Pyrenees that I might want to have a look at. They were a breeding pair, and were 7 years old. They had been dropped off two years before. As she was getting too old for breeding, both dogs had been neutered and were in excellent health.

The female was half Pyrenees and half Akbash. The Akbash is an ancient Turkish guard dog bred for guarding livestock. Sonia called her Alexis. I call her Alex, for short. She is about 130 pounds and has a white medium coat of hair. Her head reminds me of a polar bear. She has an outgoing personality and came right up to us when we went into their huge kennel.

The male, named Jesi, was a purebred Pyrenees. He really looked just like a white St. Bernard, jowls and all. Jesi weighed in at 120 pounds. Once he trusted you he was a very loving, gentle giant. I later was to fall hard for him. He was shy and only came over after watching me for around 15 minutes. His eyes reminded me of a baby seal, so big and loving. Not long after that I stood up and told Sonia I would like to take both of them. She had been hoping I would say that. The dogs were like an old married couple. I got the both of them for the price of one.

We went through some of the adoption procedures, but it was nothing like the pound. Sonia told me she would bring them the next day after they got a bath. It was all good so Mom and I went back to her house. She shook her head when I told her I was taking the both of them.

The thing was, I was driving a Malibu Max at the time and it was going to be a tight fit with those two. Sonia brought the two the next morning. They looked beautifully white and fuzzy. Sonia was sad but happy to see them go to a new and loving home. I had worked it out that I would be going home that day but still needed to walk them before the long four hour car ride home.

They pulled me down the street, and I thought it best to keep to the back lanes. We passed by some men who were working on fixing a house up. One of them on a ladder nearly fell off when he saw two huge dogs walk by. It made me smile, as I hung on for dear life. I must have looked like I was driving two small horses.

I packed up my gear and the two dogs and said my goodbyes to Mom. As I drove I talked to them, they were great passengers. They just laid down filling up the entire back of the car. When I finally got near home, I stopped in town to stretch my legs and walk them. We then continued, since I was looking forward to getting home by now. It is always a long trip for me, especially since I am never keen on driving.

I had told Ed what I had done the night before, so he wouldn't have a shock when he saw the new dogs. (I am sure he was shaking his head when I told him).

As I drove into the driveway, Ed was there to greet us, along with and Brock and Amy.

The males eyed each other up, but there was no trouble at the time. It was the same for the females. I walked the new dogs around the yard introducing them to the farm animals. It went fine but I did have to tie Jesi and Alex up for awhile. They have a tendency to wander off (more stories to come).

There were a couple of incidents between the boys and the girls. About a month after expanding the dog population of the farm, I heard some growling and looked out the window. There was Alex, with her jaws clamped on the back of Amy's neck. She was shaking her back and forth like a rat. I ran out of the house as fast as I could, screaming at Alex to stop. She let go of Amy and looked up at me. Amy was lucky her neck hadn't been broken. Amy is only about fifty pounds.

It was a good thing I had established who was the leader of the pack early on because there were two fights I had to break up between Brock and Jesi.

The first one was the worst. It happened after calving had started and I had given all the dogs some placenta. Jesi had his but walked off to see if there was more. Brock then went over to Jesi's piece. Before I knew it, Jesi was on Brock. It sounded horrible, and I had never had to break up a fight between two huge dogs before. Jesi outweighed Brock by at least 30 pounds. He was on top and biting Brock's throat. I had no choice but to grab Jesi by his collar and try to pull him off, all the while yelling for Ed to come out of the barn.

I don't really know where I got the strength, but I kept on pulling until I got Jesi to let go of Brock's throat and yanked him off. Brock got up, and Ed finally came out of the barn. I told him to put Brock inside. I kept my hold on Jesi, but now that it was over, my body started to shake and I felt so tired. I remember thinking that I felt like I had just run for 20 miles. I kept the dogs separate for the rest of the day.

There was one more small fight, with my poor Brock on his back again. But I had no trouble stopping it. I just had to keep my wits about me, and whenever I heard Jesi start to growl, I would say, “ Hey!”and he would look up at me and stop. He seemed to do this only when I was around. I guess it was jealousy on Jesi's part. He never had a real home before, and living with other dogs was a big ajustment for both of the pyrs.

So from all this, Brock just accepted Jesi as being further up the pack scale, and as for Amy and Alex, who knows? Amy is still trying to be top dog with Alex, but now Alex just looks down at her and walks off. ( I can picture her mentally shaking her head at Amy ).

Now, having the four dogs cruising the perimeter, the coyotes stayed well away from the yard.

Brock had the spirit to be a great help with the cattle and had a happy-go-lucky personality that I will always hold dear in my heart. The last couple of months, even though it was so painful for Brock to walk far, he would always make the effort to go for a walk down the road with the other dogs and us. He was always so happy to be near us and to feel the wind in his face. He never ever gave up on life. He enjoyed it too much. A lesson we could all learn.

On October 8th, his arthritis finally got to the point that he couldn't get up anymore. We took him to the vet’s and as he went to sleep, I held him and said my good-byes. He will always have a special place in my heart. He was one of a kind, my Brock.