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Spike The Wonder Dog

Spike, The Wonder Dog
by Marilyn Mackenzie

Spike the Wonder Dog

The newspaper ad said the puppies were "Yorkshire Terrier and Poodle Mix." The cost was $100. My spouse (now ex) was wary about spending $100 for a mutt puppy. But something told me I should call and talk to the owner of the puppies. I knew they'd be small dogs, and that was important to us. We already had a chocolate lab and wanted a smaller house dog.

The owner said he only had one puppy left, and that pup was a bit different than the rest. I told him we'd be there in 30 minutes. My son was ecstatic. My spouse merely pouted. He was sure the trip was going to be a waste of time. Who would be stupid enough to pay $100 for a mutt?

Mommy Yorkie met us at the door, yapping in that high-pitched voice typical of terriers. She was tiny, probably not more than about five pounds. Not far behind her was the only pup left from the litter of six, and she was protecting him. She didn't want to lose her last puppy to strangers.

Ed was pleased to know he'd been right. The puppy looked like any other black , brown and white mutt one would find at the pound. In his mind, this was not a dog worthy of the $100 price tag.

The dog's owner explained the lineage more carefully when he sensed our hesitation. The mom was Yorkie/Poodle Mix. The dad was a mutt terrier. The Mister was totally convinced now. There was no way he'd pay $100 for a dog of such caliber.

We drove away, with my son and I insisting that this was just the dog we wanted, no matter the price. Something told us that he was a really special dog. Shortly, the Mister drove back to the house and we paid the $100. The Mister was none too pleased. Displeasure was short-lived, though. Well, it didn't last too long.

The first night was a difficult one. Spike, the name my son gave the dog because he knew that mutt was going to turn out to be a tough guy (and he was right!), cried and tried mightily to get out of the box where we had placed him. Actually, he accomplished getting out a few times, to my amazement. The dog jumped straight up in the air, a feat he perfected over the years. More about that later. This human mommy soon had to lie on the sofa and cuddle said puppy, so he would sleep and so my son and hubby could finally sleep as well.

The next day, our bundle of joy came to life. Spike, the Wonder Dog must have decided to make the best of his life. And enjoy it he did.
Just 8 weeks old, that puppy jumped on the back of the sofa to bark at people walking past our window. They thought it quite comical that this itty-bitty puppy was playing guard dog. But, as I pointed out to the Mister, he didn't have the yappy high-pitched typical terrier bark, or even a puppy bark. He sounded, already, like a mature male dog guarding his domain.

Then, to my utter amazement, that puppy ran to the bedroom and jumped onto the bed, so he could continue barking at the passersby. Wow. But Spike wasn't finished surprising me.

Our house sat on a corner lot, with the street in front and an alley on the side. There were windows on the alley side of the house as well, and Spike ran to the next room and jumped on my son's bed so as to continue barking and following the people walking by. What a smart 8-week old puppy this guy was!

We were soon able to distinguish the many barks of our Spike, the Wonder Dog. He developed a bark to joyously welcome the dogs he'd met on his own walking adventures, barks letting us know that new dogs and their owners were passing by, and, of course, the bark alerting us to the mailman or UPS driver at the door.

Not long after this, a beautiful, female Shih Tzu showed up at our door and tried to adopt our whole family. Many weeks later, her new owners decided that Pebbles should move in with our family, since she preferred living with us, and since their big Greyhounds didn't appreciate that little bundle of fur. Pebbles was about 3 years old and weighed about 9 pounds. She and Spike became friends, sort of.

Actually, Pebbles chased Spike around the house with a fake angry bark. He obliged her by pretending to be afraid. But he just loved running through the house. What grace that dog had as he dodged and turned and bounced on furniture and under tables to escape Pebbles' wrath. That was one quick dog.

As in many human relationships, Spike and Pebbles started their time together as almost enemies, but ended up deeply in love. Yes, they also became mom and dad to some fantastic puppies.

Our ad in the newspaper boasted of Yorkie-Poo and Shih Tzu mixed puppies for $60. The Mister didn't think they'd sell. But because we explained that mom and dad were both on the premesis and that neither was over 13 pounds, we received hundreds of calls. I think we could have sold about 25 or 30 of those pups, but we only had six. We sold four and kept a male and female for ourselves.

Now our little doggies were the parents, Spike and Pebbles, and their pups, Sox and Kong. (I neglected to mention that we'd moved out in the country and now had an acre of land, a barn and an orange grove on the other side of our back yard. These dogs had plenty of room to roam. And roam they did!)

When the puppies were born, daddy Spike wanted nothing to do with them. Actually, he had shown just a bit of curiosity, but one of the puppies tried nursing. From that moment on, he stayed far, far away from the pups. But, once they were starting to wean and we took them outside to romp, daddy Spike became a great teacher. He taught every one of those pups his fast and graceful running and dodging and leaping maneuvers.

Because we had an acre and a barn, and because we home schooled our son and wanted many hands-on experiences for him, we ended up getting two ducks near Easter. As luck would have it, they were male and female, and we soon had zillions of eggs all over our property. We also soon had a nest full of eggs, with mamma duck sitting proudly warming them and waiting for them to hatch.

Meanwhile...daddy duck and daddy dog took it on themselves to be the guardians of the property. That's right. Daddy duck followed Spike to the gate when strangers approached, and quacked along side our Wonder Dog. Spike and daddy duck respected each other, and Spike never seemed to mind sharing the guard dog duties. In fact, he seemed to welcome the company of daddy duck. Strange dog, indeed.

Although our original intent was that Spike the Wonder Dog would belong to our son, as is often the case, mom ended up taking care of the dog more than son. So, Spike became my buddy. Derek was more attached to Pebbles, Sox and Kong.

Spike really was a Wonder Dog. Each morning, I'd ask if he wanted to have coffee with me, and he did. I'd take my Bible, my journal and my coffee, plus food for the birds and squirrels outside to the porch, and Spike would tag along. As I alternated between feeding the birds and squirrels and reading God's Word and scribbling away, Spike lay quietly on the porch with me.

At first when we started this routine, the birds and squirrels wanted nothing to do with us. Come close when there was a dog nearby? No way! But soon they learned that during our morning coffee time, Spike totally ignored them. The birds would swoop down and land on the porch railing and sometimes even sit there cocking their heads at me and at the dog. The squirrels were often more cautious, trying to sneak up on us. But they were brave as well.

Once coffee time was over, though, Spike became a regular dog again and took off barking and chasing said animals and birds. The squirrels fled quickly and then sat on the tree branches around us, making that scolding noise for which they're so famous. The birds just disappeared.

Spike could jump! Straight up in the air he jumped. Once we were entertaining company and ignoring the fact that our dogs wanted to be in the house. The windows at the back of the house were probably over six feet above the ground. I remember watching the face of our house guest as he turned to face the disturbance in the backyard and saw his expression change to amazement. I turned to see what might have caused his amazed look, and saw my morning coffee buddy jumping straight up in the air to get our attention (and probably to see what was keeping him from coming inside). What a giggle we got from that.

Once he learned that he could jump so high, keeping Spike in the backyard was next to impossible. Our fence was only a four foot high fence. He'd jump and just soar over that fence, and unfortunately, he taught his puppies to do the same. They'd take off for the orange grove behind us and just run and run and run. I often feared that one of the big trucks there would run over our small dogs without seeing them, but that wasn't how they died. They all did die.

Since he could jump to get over our fence, jumping only three feet off the ground and landing in a tree wasn't a hard feat. It surely did look strange, though, to see a dog sitting in a tree. Of course I have pictures to prove that my dog was a tree climber.

Spike truly hated the vacuum cleaner. That's not too unusual. Our other dogs either sat in the corner and barked at the vacuum or hid from it in fear. Not our Spike. Mr. Tough Guy attacked the vacuum cleaner by biting the front of it. The rubber at the front of my vacuum cleaner had teeth marks from where he'd grab the vacuum as I was trying to sweep the floor.

Unfortunately, in Spike's mind, if he could attack the vacuum cleaner, he could attack the riding lawn mower similarly. The first time he pulled that stunt, he snuck out the door as I opened it and ran full force straight for the mower barking and getting ready to bite the mower just like he did the vacuum. I ran after him yelling at the Mister, who, of course, was totally oblivious to the commotion. He couldn't hear anything over the mower and wasn't expecting the dog to attack it. I just knew that was going to be the end of our tough terrier mutt.

His end did come from being tough. His puppies had escaped the yard and the Mister told him to go and find them. Spike found them trapped by a rattle snake. That one time, they seemed to realize what trouble they were in and they weren't doing their typical terrier yapping, but being quiet and not moving a muscle until daddy Spike showed up on the scene.

Spike must have told them to take off running while he took care of the snake, so they did. He probably lunged for the snake just like he did the vacuum and the riding mower. But the snake bit him. Spike made it back to our front lawn and collapsed.

The Mister, not realizing that the dog had snake poison in his leg, massaged his swollen leg instead of rushing him 3 miles down the road to the vet. That probably helped speed the poison throughout his system and Spike the Wonder Dog was dead in no time.

His puppies each died not long after that, from chasing cars. (They hadn't chased cars before that, but without daddy dog to keep them in line, they chased them. I wonder if they thought they were going to bite the front bumpers, like daddy bit the vacuum and riding mower...)

Spike the Wonder Dog. I think of him often, as I sit outside in the morning watching the squirrels and listening to the birds.

There are more stories to be told. Like when Spike's daughter, Sox, decided to help out by nursing kittens, or what it was like having 18 ducks in the backyard as pets. More about these "down on the farm" stories later.

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