Dobermann Welfare: Caring Hands

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Dobermann Welfare
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Caring Hands - Kruger

Kruger's M6 Cruise

Sunday 1 June 1997. An important day for me, with Kath Miller waking me up, and explaining that I should be on my best behaviour. It was going to be a 2 hour drive to Carlisle Services on the M6 (a motorway which runs from the Midlands to Cumbria in England), and here I was going to hopefully impress my prospective new parents. We arrived on time, and there they were, obviously earglerly awaiting my arrival. They had lost their previous rescue Dobe 4 months previosly, and I was exactly what they were looking for - under 2 years, black and tan, extremely handsome, and a gentle giant. Everything they had asked for!

This was my chance, impress, impress! Out I shot from the back of Kath's estate, and immediately licked a hand. downed a couple of chew bars, and a quick trip over to the grassed 'doggie' area. My performance was looking good. Keep that stump wagging, I thought. Look intelligent, loving, wanting - melt their hearts. I hope they don't think I'm too much of a giant. I knew I was larger than most, but a picture of health and vigour.Within ½ an hour I was back on the M6 still heading south towards my new home four hours drive away.

"Farm". I read the sign as we drove onto the driveway. Great, I thought. Lots of open spaces and plenty of exercise. This looks good! A welcoming committee were there to greet us - all family. 'Here Kruger', 'Down Kruger' Good boy Kruger' - new smells, new voices. A quick romp around the garden, even the cows had come up to the fence to greet me. Then I was off into the house. In the kitchen there was my bed, complete with bedding and toys, then into the family room were I thought "Gee, this is a large family". That is until I realised that only my new mum and dad, and their 20 year old son lived there.

"You can't call hin Kruger", the conversation went, "Images of Murder on Elm Street",! "No, Kruger is short for Krugerand - South African y'know". "How about calling him 'Cruiser'? That sounds similar to Kruger, or Kaiser. Within the next few days, I was almost named "Hoover', as I ate anything and everything that resembled food: The cattle cake, the left overs from the bakery that were fed to the pigs, etc. Incidentally! How did they know that raw tripe and valu-mix were my favourite? Kath must have told them.

I was settling in well.

Life is comfortable, caring and interesting, and everyday starts with a romp around the fields whilst my dad feeds the cattle - fascinating creatures with whom I seem to have a great affinity!

Breakfast, some lounging about, then a walk around the lanes on the lead with my mum. I like this a lot, as I get to meet other people and doggie friends. I've even got a girlfriend now. She's an Alsatian, but I'm not fussy, and she does visit the farm regularly, and we do have some good romps around the fields together.

I certainly feel one of the family, and I adore 'Teddy' who is their toddler grandson and who visits quite often. Our favourite game is when mum blows the bubbles, and I jump up and pop them all. Teddy is in stitches with laughter.

My name is still Kruger. I might be their fourth Dobermann, but they certainly love and understand our breed's idiosyncrasies.

A big thank you to all concerned, from all of us. Love Kruger.

Submitted by Jane Stevens.

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