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Adopting Princess was the best idea I ever had. She became GiGi’s fur-baby companion.

I warned GiGi about strangers. The puppy would jump in the car with anybody and she would never see her gain.

GiGi determined that she would she never allow Princess to get into a stranger’s car.

I also explained that Princess would grow up to be a big girl, and I hoped that she wouldn't do the things big girls do, like drinking, and smoking, and taking drugs. I hoped she would turn her nose up at those things.

GiGi said she'd turn up her nose at those things, too.

I was relieved to hear that.

Spreading my arms wide apart, I explained, “We have to build and big trust bank with Princess, so she will listen to us when we try to teach her not to run off with the big dogs, and get lost, and live in the junkyard where it’s cold and isn't any food.”

GiGi shivered. “I’ll go find her.”

“Me, too." I assured her. " We have to remember that she’s just a puppy, even when she looks big on the outside."

Like me?" GiGi asked

"Yes," I replied. "Just like you."

GiGi spread her hands wide and said, “This is how much I love Princess.”

“That much?” I asked. “That sure is a lot of love.”

Princess grew into a big girl and figured out how to open the door by herself. The police said that she set off the alarm, let them in, and followed them around while they checked the house. I wouldn't mind the inconvenience so much, if she'd close the door and reset the alarm.

She could always tell who was good and who wasn't good.

When Princess wanted to play, GiGi wouId say, "Go get your ball and we'll go outside."

Princess would search the house, return and cock her head as if to say, "I can't find my ball." 

GiGi knew where the ball was and said, “It’s downstairs. Go downstairs and get your ball.”

A moment later Princess would return with the ball.

“Good girl,” GiGi would say.

Princess liked to be called a 'good girl.'

GiGi was in the 9th grade the day Princess couldn’t get up from bed. I carried her outdoors and back, and to the Vet. The doctor said ten years was really old for a German shepherd.

“Where’s Princess?” GiGi asked when she found me sitting on the old girl's empty bed.

Rubbing my puffy eyes I said, “I don’t feel right, GiGi. I think I took something that wasn’t mine to take.”

If you took something that wasn't yours, why don’t you just give it back?” GiGi asked.

“I’d give anything if I could,” I answered. “Princess trusted me. I feel really, really bad.”

“She’s in heaven, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s in heaven, and I’m so very, very sorry. . . The doctor said there were ways to keep her comfortable, and now I think I made a big mistake.”

GiGi looked at me for a long moment, then said,

“She’s a good girl, Dad. She'll forgive you. She always forgives everybody.” And she palmed a tear from her cheek.

“I know she will." I palmed a tear from my cheek, too. "That's the kind of girl she is."

"Just like me?" GiGi asked.

"Yes, just like you."

 

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German Shepherd

Jette is the newest member of our family. Her name is taken from a German word meaning 'black.' You can see in this portrait that her nature is very good. When you're shopping for a puppy take a look at the sire and the dam (the puppy's parents). If they're aggressive, then walk away. There are better puppies around to choose from.