Ode to Sheba

My Grandparents had a black lab/dobermin mix named Sheba on the farm in SW Michigan. She was gorgeous and looked just like a big black lab, I rode her as a child around the yard. We were buddies. She shared her doghouse with me and I shared lots of back scratches with her, her favorite thing. She had the kindest eyes you can imagine and a tail that wagged happy to see me but if too close could feel like a whip. When Grandpa and Grandma passed and we moved onto the farm, we inherited Sheba. She was rally my dog, since I was outside the most, and because of the tail situation and the farm’s muddiness, she was strictly an outside dog. So she would help me in the garden by sitting politely on the vegetables and help mom out with her flowers by freshly pressing them every day with her big tummy and she would only bark if someone new came o to the property. However, she had her heroic and quite amazing deeds as well that I am writing down to celebrate. She allowed us to have corn because she kept every sneeky racoon and every hungry deer in the woods away from our rows of corn. She cornered opossum and chased them away before they could harm anyone or anything. She was my constant companion on long runs through the woods and fields. She knew the way and led me several times in the dark when I lost track of time. She walked with me to McCoy Creek park and swam in the creek with me. We had a beautiful friendship. And of course there was the one time she saved my life. We were almost to McCoy Creek one summer day after chores to cool off and three big dogs came running after us with snarls and barks, up to no good at all. Before I could even tell her to, she grew about two feet of hair and faced those three aggressive dogs singlehandedly. They decided she wasn’t worth trying and turned tail and ran off. I gave her my steak that night for supper as a reward. So, rest well in doggie heaven, my beautiful Sheba, most loved and noble of friends! I still remember and love you!

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