“Those who believe a dog has no soul, have never looked in the eyes of a German shepherd.”
I first heard that quote from Rosemary Risner, who bred one of my first German shepherds, Reva. I acquired Reva in Colorado and she accompanied me through many of life’s ups and downs through Arizona, California and Michigan. She took charge of my baby horse, Clifford, mothering him ruthlessly as he grew from a gangly two year old into a mature gelding. Reva is pictured ushering Clifford along the shore, on the cover of my book, “Clifford of Drummond Island.” (Read it for free on Amazon kindle) She was a helicopter mom. I am not sure Clifford would have been quite the same horse without her. Reva lived to be 15 and she died at Clifford’s feet, at our camp on the island in 2001, and is buried by the sawmill across the road from his corral.
Since then I have had several other shepherds but lost my last one, Cajun, to a twisted intestine in 2008. So now I am shepherd-less for a decade! Hard to believe. I imagine this matter will be rectified very soon.
In the meantime, I keep on painting them.
The German shepherd lives on in my heart like no other breed of dog. Loyal, imposing, versatile, willing, courageous and funny, they are the best of the best when it comes to dogdom. To me, they will always be family.