by John Jefferson

I’ve been blessed with a love of dogs since childhood. It began with my father’s fox terrier he named “Jigger” when I was just a toddler. There have been many since.

Another fox terrier came later, then a couple of cockers, and several basset hounds after grad school. I’ve grieved for every one of them when their time was over. But the memories eventually overcame the pain of loss.

Thirty-four years ago, a man saw a photograph of mine of two golden retriever puppies frolicking around a duck decoy on a Ducks Unlimited banquet program. He asked if I could photograph his new litter of Labrador puppies. I said “Sure!” He then offered to trade me a puppy for the work. I respectfully declined; we wanted our yard for US.

A month later, as we finished the shoot, I heard my wife softly say, “Awww!” Looking up, I saw her cuddling a female puppy. It slept on her lap all the way home.

Choco gave us 30 puppies: 23 were registered; seven were unplanned. That added a new dimension to my photography business. I also got to swamp the kennel every morning for those little crap factories.

Despite being well fed, they chewed everything not nailed down. And some things that were. Their mother passed that gene to them. As a puppy herself, she once chewed a 4’x6’ foam sleeping pad into three-inch chunks. She also converted a beautiful, matched pair of fallow deer antlers into “spike antlers”. Her best effort, though, was eating a DOOR from the knob to the ground. All that was left was the upper half of the door she couldn’t reach. But we loved her dearly — once past puppyhood.

We raised several other Labs from puppies. Every one of our dogs chewed up a favorite, irreplaceable baseball cap. We walked them twice daily and had plenty of chew-toys laying around – pieces of deer antler, bones, knotted pieces of frayed rope, and squeaky toys — or they might have eaten the couch. Exercise really helped. It’s mandatory.

Then came a coon hound — my deer dog, named “Whoop”. When he passed, I grieved for months. We decided not to get another dog. We already had “ Ruger”, a delightful, well-mannered half-Lab. One day,

Vicky mentioned a friend raised registered Labs and German short-haired pointers. Their two money-makers accidently got together, producing an unregistrable litter of “point-a-dors”. That’s a recognized crossbreed. So, we now have a new puppy.

Mostly all he does is chew and pee, and is he WILD! So, we named him “Chewpeecabra.” We also call him “Hoodie” since no matter what we do to pen him in his kennel, he always finds a way out like Houdini. So far, he’s shredded several potted plants and was stopped short of invading the fenced tomato patch.

Raising a puppy into an obedient companion is challenging, and not for everyone. But bringing one up from puppyhood to maturity results in a loveable, unforgettable “best friend”.

JJ