When my oldest daughter finished her residency and was able to devote time to a pet, we started to search for the “perfect” pet for her. Since she was going to live alone, she decided a dog that would afford some protection would be a good idea. Since I had owned a Doberman Pinscher previously, I suggested that perhaps that type of dog would be a good one to consider. I knew Doberman’s to be protective as well as loving. They are often called “velcro” dogs because they tend to stick to the owner like glue. My daughter said she’d consider one but wanted to see a few first.
We went to a reputable breeder who breeds Doberman’s not for profit but for the love of the breed. On the premises were 6 adult Dobermans: 2 black, 2 red, 1 blue, and 1 fawn. All of the dogs ran freely on her property so it wasn’t surprising that they all met us as we pulled in to the driveway. They barked briefly to alert the owner of the property to our presence but then stood and looked at us warily. It wasn’t until the owner came out of the house that we made the first move to get out of the car upon the owner’s assurance that the beasts before us would cause us no harm.
The breeder took us into the house where a massive black Doberman met us at the door, sniffed and then turned away. In a large box in the corner of the room was a red Dobergirl guarding her Doberpuppies. The breeder quickly let the Doberpuppies loose in the house but kept the Dobermom in the corner. As the breeder explained to my daughter exactly what Dobermans are like as a pet, one of the puppies came and sat near my feet. He had the biggest paws I had ever seen on a Doberman and his legs were lanky and clumsy. As the other Doberpuppies tried to gather at my feet to see what this visitor was all about, the Doberpuppy with the big paws kept every other puppy at bay. He would not let any other puppy near me. The breeder joked about him not letting me go home without him and I just laughed knowing that I didn’t need a big goofy Doberman to chase my two small Yorkies into a frenzy.
Since my daughter didn’t want a puppy for a few months, we looked at the Dobergirl who was due in about 5 months. She had been breeded to the massive Doberman who met us at the door – so had the goofy, big pawed- red dog that wouldn’t let any other Doberpuppy near me. We left that day with a lot of information. My daughter left with the breeders phone number and the due date of the Dobergirl about to give birth. I left with the goofy red dog who would later look like this:
My husband was not a happy camper when I brought Rory home. He complained that he cost too much, he was too big for the Yorkies, and he would eat us out of house and home. He was right, I was wrong. Rory stayed and moved into our hearts.
As with most Dobermans, Rory quickly became the classic “velcro” dog. He followed whoever was being the most active at the time. He especially watched closely his blue ball, which became his constant appendage. He never went anywhere without it. He even slept with it. A trait so endearing, that we couldn’t help but make sure he had two or three blue balls all the time, just in case one met with an untimely demise.
Soon, Rory took over my husband’s heart and the two developed a routine. The routine was: What Rory wants, Rory gets. Rory waited patiently for my husband to get home from work, but the minute he walked into the house Rory would grab his blue ball and demand that my husband play with him. Of course, my husband would call him a big red ass or say some other un-flattering name but Rory was persistent. If he didn’t get the attention he wanted right then, he would thump my husband in the leg with his blue ball. The exchange was a ritual and fun to watch. Rory demanded attention. He felt he had to the be center of our world because, after all, we were the center of his.
In a heartbeat, the attachment occurs: the love between a dog and his master. If the truth be told, I am unsure in a human/canine relationship who exactly the master is. I’m pretty sure it is not the human. Rory was the master of us all. He played us like a finely tuned violin. Rory pouted if he didn’t get his way, whined if you didn’t pay attention to him, caused mischief with the Yorkies at times and was the best friend a person could have. He was more than canine, he was more than human, he was …Rory – The Red King. Rory was a part of the family and lived in our every heartbeat.
After a long day, Rory felt it was his right to stretch out on the sofa and relax after a long tedious day of playing and protecting the homestead. Of course, his blue ball was always close at hand. At 120 lbs, Rory still thought he was a lap dog. If able, he would cuddle up as close as possible as if to warm his body with ours. An annoying, but endearing quality all at the same time.
Yesterday, while running and playing outside; something he loved to do, Rory left us in a heartbeat. He was running and playing and then all of a sudden he looked up, collapsed and his spirit soared into the universe. He left my world to enter another dimension.
Red Dog had a good life. Red Dog had a happy life. Red Dog had a short 4 1/2 year life. Red Dog will be remembered by me always. I miss him more than words can say.
I love you Red Dog, Red King, Red Drooley……. I love you Rory.