Brandy / Mom / Me
Our family dog, Brandy, a german shephard that was impressively smart and well-trained, is the one pet I often think about. I remember sitting with my brother on the sofa in the basement, with a fire cracking in the background, as my dad would wrap towels around his forearm in preparation for the "look how your dog will defend you" demonstration (as I remembered it to be called).
How I loved this demonstration.
It showed me just how viciously (and admirably) our dog would protect us from harm. The demonstration would start, as I said, with my dad wrapping his attack arm in anticipation of the attack. Then the role of the victim, played by either my brother or myself. My dad would pretend to hit us and we would dramatically scream out, "OUCH, NO, STOP, HELP!", When I was the victim, I could hear Brandy deeply growling and barking in the background and when I was the viewer I could see her getting ready to strike... suddenly a blur of brown-black fur would race past and then strike the (towel protected) arm of our attacker. My brother and I would freeze and stare wide-eyed as we witnessed our dog attacking our dad to protect us, it was so badass. Brandy was a great dog, the best one I ever met. But aside from her ability to protect us she also had that amazing "great dog" ability to cheer me up, as if she knew when I was feeling down. I'm so thankful to have these memories of her.
