Acquired: Other (stray, given dog by friend etc.)
Posted June 5, 2014
I grew up with Spike, and he with me. From I was 8 years old until his passing, when I was about 21, that mixed-breed pooch was my best friend and the bane of my existence. He never really carried the noble bearing of his Doberman heritage, but eventually grew into his uncut ears and very large feet, becoming an excellent guard dog, with a full, fearsome bark and a general sense of discipline (though not formally trained). Spike didn’t understand his large size and so would almost always hit me over with joy when happy to see me and would gladly (I thought) share a waltz or two when I felt like it. He was a fun, playful dog who enjoyed running wildly in the yard and sunning his belly, and though he would tug at my hair sometimes (I figured it was a tail-envy of sorts) he never presented any danger to me during my childhood. That said, he was sometimes moody, and twice snapped at female visitors to the house, on their way out of the gate - though he had no issue with them entering. His size was a disadvantage to us in this way, because, at full force he easily escaped what we thought was a tight grip on his leash.
He was particularly territorial with our other dogs and would sometimes feel that their food was also his. At times, with glee, he would run through the house and mark his territory by peeing on the same brick wall everytime. He had it down to a science. He was a voracious eater, a groaner and a gassy doggie but he mated well and was an all-round hearty companion. As he aged he began to have complications with his eyesight (infections and cataracts, I believe), which eventually required medication and surgery.