Name That Breed

Today’s post is from NorthShorer

His name was Lucky. My father acquired him when we lived north of Isabella where my father was lumberjacking after WWII. A man in the lumber camp was leaving and did not want to take the dog. My father took him before the man shot him. It was that kind of age. My father was not objecting; he simply wanted a dog. We then moved down to our farm near Two Harbors. I suppose my father had in mind to have a farm dog.I remember him but have no visual image of him, except for these pictures. Every time I see these and other photos I am surprised by two things. First, how big and rough looking a dog he was. Second, that the only images of him are with me. Apparently we were buddies, which makes sense because of all the time I spent playing in the woods. He lasted with us for a couple years. I can guess what happened to him. He certainly does not look like a cattle dog. I used Lucky as the image for a short story about a half wild dog living on the edge of northern town in 1908.

He was replaced by a collie, who was beautiful, an image of Lassie. She played with the deer in our garden in the snow in the winter time. She was not around very long. Next we briefly had a female mixed breed, mostly border collie. Then we acquired a full breed border collie from a neighbor who did not want the dog anymore. He was THE DOG of my childhood.

What breeds do you see in Lucky?

My only companions of my pre-school years were two older nasty cousins up in the forest, my sister, and various animals.

What do you remember of your companions of your pre-school years?

27 thoughts on “Name That Breed”

  1. Lucky looks a bit like Princess the Wonder Dog, my favorite childhood dog, so I’m going with shepherd and collie. I have a strong memory of a time when I was probably 9 or 10 and being completely distraught (although after this many years, I don’t remember why I was unhappy) and sitting on the steps of my house, crying my heart out. Princess sat quietly next to me and let me hug and cry all over her. The best kind of dog!

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  2. First, you were a real cutie patootie as a preschooler, Clyde. I woud also bet Lucky was a shepard collie mix. My dog companion was a pug named Loki who let me dress her up in doll clothes. Becky was my best friend who lived right behind us, and there were scads of children in the neighborhood to play with, too. like the Mills brothers (Tracy, Mark, and Mike) .

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  3. We lived in the country=southern Minnesota during my childhood preschool, K & gr1. My ‘pets’ were the little garter snakes and lady bugs I would gather until my father put an end to that. Evidently I was giving my mother great fright. I loved sleepovers on a farm with dear friends. Then I had the barn kittens & and a stuffed bear with various clothes named Teddy Bear. I had no actual pets growing up…my mother had a fear of animals…but I made up for it as an adult. At one time we had two dogs and two cats…same dongs, one of the cats and a Macaw. All of my animals have been rescue.

    My now rescue has done as much rescuing me as I have him. Bandit is a small papillon mix who was in a cage until rescued and it was 6 mo before they would put him up for adoption. He was a frightened little guy who has become so trusting in me that I can do just as out anything with him now….’tho as cynthiafrommahtowa can attest…he’s not calm around anyone who comes to our home…until I have him in my lap with his head under a blanket!

    I’m not good at guessing breeds but I tend to agree with Verily sherrilee & reneeinnd.

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  4. I don’t have a clue about breed. I only had a couple friends growing up. Natalie from kindergarten, I think — but she lived a bit too far down the highway where we lived and I always had to pass her neighbor who had this giant, barking dog that scared the pants off me. Then a family moved in next door who had kids some of our ages, so we played with them a lot. Lost track of them when I left for JFK Prep boarding school.

    Funny thing, but several months ago, my sister was at a favorite restaurant in Green Bay and recognized a waitress as my neighbor friend, Sue. They instantly recognized each other. On a whim, my sister called me and had me talk to Sue on the phone. What a hoot! After 40+ years, we remembered each other.

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  5. I had a couple friends from preschool days, Mark and B.J. Both were my age. Mark was with me in school for a few years until we moved away. B.J. and his family moved away before we started school, if I remember correctly. Mark and I played together a lot, because we could get to each other’s house just by walking past the hill and following the path between our houses. We mostly played outdoors. I don’t remember B.J. very well, but I’m pretty sure I liked him a lot.

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  6. My dad liked to make oyster stew, and there are photos of me and Becky eating it.

    We roamed through the yards on our block fearlessly and at will, exploring building sites of new houses, chasing rabbits with a neighbor boy’s beagle, climbing trees.

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  7. Since Lucky came from the heart of the Superior National Forest, the theory was that he was in some part wolf.
    When I look at the second photo, I first notice the milk cans on the front bumper of the 1936 Chevy. It was an age of bumpers on cars, real bumpers. And running boards. And big grills on radiators which you covered in cardboard in the winter time to keep the car warmer and the engine running hotter. That car or parts thereof, has had a long life. It was turned into a pickup about 5 years after this picture. Then the box part of that conversation was turned into a dumping trailer. Up until about ten years ago the trailer, with a new axle, still existed and was in use about three miles from this spot.

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  8. “I hope if dogs take over the world, and they choose a king, they don’t just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.” Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey.

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  9. My first dog was a copper-colored cocker spaniel. I can’t reveal his name because I think its the answer to the security question on some website. He was my constant companion, so much so that my mother would keep track of me by looking for the dog. He liked to chase things— balls, sticks and, unfortunately, cars. That last was what ultimately did him in.
    My suburban neighborhood in the very early ’50s was loaded with kids born to parents married just after the war. Consequently, I had a large cohort and, in those innocent days, the run of the place. Even at a preschool age, we spent the bulk of our time outdoors. There were still houses being built on the block and piles of excavated dirt and overgrown empty lots to explore.
    As we got a little older, we ranged much further. There were woods nearby where we would build forts and treehouses, and creeks to fall into. We would typically leave home after breakfast and not show up again until suppertime.

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    1. After the cocker, we had a beagle. He was neurotic and went berserk when left alone, destroying all the basement furniture. I also had a rabbit, ducks and, for some reason, a salamander. No matter what you’ve been led to believe, salamanders do not make satisfying pets. I can’t imagine keeping a salamander as a pet ever ends well.

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        1. If you’re looking for a pet that will go for help when you fall down the well, a salamander is not the right choice.

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    2. I was a child slightly earlier than Bill, yet his description of growing up is uncannily similar to my experience. Innocent. Undeveloped lots. Tons of playmates. Unsupervised time to play. Virtually no limits on our freedom to roam and explore. My mother suffered from anxieties, and thus might have been more controlling than other moms of the time, but she rarely knew where I was (within a mile or two) or what I was doing.

      Last week they announced research about the “happiest children in the world.” Those turned out to be Dutch kids, and something specifically mentioned was how Dutch kids have bicycles and the freedom to move about without adult supervision. Gretchen, my date in the dance photo from yesterday, called her bike Black Beauty. She explored the length and breadth of Ames on Black Beauty as an adolescent.

      There was much wrong with the Fifties, but I am convinced it was the nicest time in recent history to be a child. I had a glorious childhood. I fear it was the rich sort of experience that could not happen again, for we have grown so fearful and controlling. Two days ago I was telling my grandson stories about my adventures. I’m not sure he believed me.

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      1. I agree, the late forties and the fifties were great growing up years. In Stubbekøbing we lived right across the street from a very large and wonderful park. Between the park and the town’s two beaches there was always plenty to do. When I think back, I’m amazed that we were trusted, even as little kids, to go to the beach alone, unsupervised by adults.

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      2. I had a similar amount of freedom without as many as playmates. We lived in the country for most of my growing up years and the nearby neighbors had mostly older kids so I was one of the younger kids and not included for many of the long rambles that my sisters and others went on. But – I look back and realize that my mom must have had no idea where we four kids were most of the time (except when we were in school). In today’s world that is unimaginable.

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  10. My neighbors had a nice, friendly German Shepherd named Baron. It was actually Baron Von Something Something, can’t remember what it was exactly. Something German.

    Whenever I hear about Barron Trump, I can’t help thinking of the dog.

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  11. Lucky looks like a shepherd collie mix to me, but who knows? Doesn’t look very wolfie to me.

    Our first pet was a black cocker spaniel named Lady. We only had her a couple of years before mom went on vacation to Ireland. Prior to leaving, mom gave Lady to Lauritz, the proprietor of the small hotel/restaurant, Landmandshotellet, where she worked. Lauritz was to take care of Lady in mom’s absence; unfortunately, he fell in love with her, and wouldn’t give her back when she returned.

    Mom was the general manager/cook/waitress, janitor and head bottle washer, i.e.,the hotel’s only employee. Every day at 1 PM, Lauritz would hang a sign on the hotel’s front door: “Closed. Walking Lady. Be back soon.” Everyone in town knew that it was folly to expect to get anything to eat at Landmardshotellet from 1 PM to about 3 PM (Lauritz needed a nap after the walk). Considering my mom’s cooking skills, I’m guessing that no one was greatly inconvenienced by this. Besides, in a town of 2300 people with a couple of other small hotels and restaurants, business consisted mostly of the occasional unsuspecting traveling salesman who didn’t know about mom’s cooking.

    After Lady, dad brought me home a turtle. I named her Sophie. She was a pretty low maintenance pet that didn’t shed, but I was fond of her. Then my sister, Randi, got a dog. A small terrier of some sort, I don’t recall his name. Sophie met her unhappy end while I was off at boarding school when Randi’s dog turned her over on her back, and she couldn’t right herself. In retrospect, I have my doubts about that story, but I have no proof that it’s not true, so I’m giving mom’s story the benefit of the doubt.

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  12. i was gonna guess colliecshepard golden because of the long hair but wolf crossed my mind. the white nose sent me off toward collie but any spaniel or hunting breed with wolf would do it
    my wolf dog was a gift
    i have 2 marvelous dogs now one big black lab and one coyote with shepard mom from minnesota deep woods
    i love dogs
    my child hood friends… i need to look up ray dewberry quick
    were gettting old and his dad was in tough shape by age 50
    rob reis is an architect of some reknown scott bowman is a facebook chirper
    my old friend from jr high is still a buddy i see but he is ride hard put away wet kind of guy
    others at the get together always update and smile
    my bass player is a big time artist
    a lady i would have loved to get involved with on an intimate level became a great friend instead she is an amazing poet after a number of fine arts hats worn
    an amazing doctor of homeopathy in cal is a fun one to stay in touch with
    i wonder what they’ll say about me when my name comes up. i’m working on it

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