Our Dog Snoopy

Reading Three Wild Dogs and the Truth by Markus Zusak brought back memories of our family dog many years ago. 

When we were young we had often had cats. When I was a young child my father was horrified when I convinced my mother that we should purchase a kitten from the pet shop. As far as Dad was concerned, no-one purchased a cat. Then there was George, a ginger Tom, who technically lived two doors from us but seemed to spend all his time in our garden. It became obvious that he was not well so eventually my mother saw his owner and told him we were taking the cat to the vet. The vet agreed to treat George for minimum cost so long as we agreed to become George's new owners. Our next door neighbour also helped look after George. Another cat adopted my mother when she went for a walk. A week or so later the cat produced a litter of kittens. We found homes for most of the kittens but for considerable time there were three cats in the house. Fortunately we did not have all the cats at the same time.

When I was in my late teens my father collected me from the railway station after I had attended evening lectures at RMIT. He told me he had a surprise. On the front seat, nestled in a box, was a small puppy. I named him Snoopy and he was an important part of our family for fourteen years. Snoopy's mother was a pedigree basset hound but she had an encounter with a labrador. As Dad was a friend of the owner he was allowed to choose which dog he wanted and chose Snoopy. I suspect that Mum knew nothing about this until Dad and Snoopy arrived home.

Snoopy had his own looks and definitely his own personality. We used to refer to him as being two dogs long and half a dog high. Snoopy was supposed to live in his dog kennel in the back garden. When Dad arranged for a wooden bungalow to be erected in the back garden so that he had a quiet place to work, Snoopy decided that this was his new home. Snoopy liked to dig so the back garden began to look like a disaster zone as Dad had to pile large quantities of rubbish along the side fence to prevent Snoopy digging under the fence into the property next door.

Snoopy could look quite ferocious when he looked through the hole in the gate and barked at anyone passing. No one tried to enter the back garden when Snoopy was on guard. He was fine with the family though he could be boisterous and had to be dissuaded from jumping on people to show his pleasure at seeing them. 

The big challenge when taking Snoopy for a walk was to avoid being taken for a walk by Snoopy. We always kept him on the lead, including at the park. When I walked with Snoopy I was always on the lookout for cats. If I saw the cat first it was OK as I could literally dig in my heels in the grass to stop him pulling me over when he decided to take chase. He did not like cyclists either so that was another thing to look out for. Needless to say walking with Snoopy could be an exhausting experience.

At the end of 1967 I moved to Canberra for several years. When I returned home in February 1971 I was sharing the bungalow with Snoopy. Dad had created a place for Snoopy to sleep in his office. Each morning I would cover my bed with folding chairs to dissuade Snoopy from sleeping on my bed when I was at work.

In 1976 Robin and I moved to Bayswater. Several months later we received a request to look after Snoopy for several weeks as the sewerage was being installed in East Bentleigh and part of the fence would be down for a while. At least this gave Snoopy new territory to explore - always on the lead.

Snoopy was a special dog. He was full of life until shortly before he died. He was definitely part of the family and our special friend. My father, in particular was very fond of him. If we had Snoopy today he would have been taken to dog training classes to attempt to teach him better behaviour, especially when on the lead. However this was not the normal procedure in the 1960s. One thing for sure, Snoopy will always be remembered by those who knew him.

Three Wild Dogs and the Truth

When the Zusak family decided to adopt a dog from the local pound they did not know the change this animal would make to their lives. The dog was Reuben, a mixture of many breeds though they were told his ancestry was possibly a Great Dane / Labrador cross. He was a few months old when they brought him home and what was certain was that he would be a big dog. 

As Markus and his wife had a three year old daughter it was essential that Reuben should be a family dog and fortunately he was. Reuben and Kitty became the best of friends. However there were other occupants in the house - two cats named Bijoux and Brutus. Bijoux was in charge. Eventually the animals came to accept each other but there were still challenges, especially when Markus took his dog for a walk.

Then a second dog named Archer arrived. There was a lot of love in the house between dogs and humans but there was also chaos, especially when the dogs went for a walk. There were also expensive vet bills. But the dogs became an important part of the family life which had expanded to include a son. 

When the two dogs died within a short time of each other it was decided to wait six months before considering another dog in the family until they saw a photo of Frosty, another street dog from the pound, and the challenging and chaotic life of looking after and loving a large and sometimes unruly dog began again.

In Three Wild Dogs and the Truth Markus Zusak provides an often humorous account of the highs and lows of living with strong-willed pets. There are a number of photos of the three dogs, usually looking innocent despite the disruption they may have caused. While Reuben and Archer were entertaining the family Markus was often away on publicity tours for The Book Thief and writing Bridge of Clay so we also learn a little of the life of an author.  I thoroughly enjoyed this book which I read in one sitting.