My very first dog - best, smartest dog in the whole wide world, bar none - was a German Shepherd mix. With what? Maybe Doberman, who knows. Sheba was a full-grown stray when she "followed" my cousin Chrissy home, and Aunt Dottie called to see if my folks wanted her. I was a toddler, probably not even two years old. My Dad brought us all over to meet the dog, and the first thing I did (remember, I was really little!) was toddle over to this strange big black dog, grab her tail with both hands and yank as hard as I could. Dad was poised to dive between me and the dog, but instead of snapping at me - which she had every right to do - she just turned and looked at my Dad as if to say "Save me!"
Sheba came home with us that day, and she was the best, smartest dog in the whole wide world. She put up with countless abuse from me (all unintentional, I was little!) and was my best friend, stayed home with me when my siblings went to school without us, taught me to look both ways before crossing the street, and much, much more. When Grandma, who really didn't believe dogs belonged in the house, came to live with us, Sheba adjusted better than anyone. After finding her on the couch once (yes, our dogs were allowed on couches and beds, always!) and scolding her, Grandma never saw Sheba on a couch again. She might enter the room and find a warm, dog-sized spot on the couch, replete with fine black dog hair, but Sheba was curled up on the floor every time. My family has had other dogs since, but Sheba still ranks as the smartest of them, all these years later.
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I can't see the pic 
Originally Posted by pitc9
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