My Dog story is less of a single story and more a compliation of awesome and quirky personality traits of one of my most beloved animals, a Doberman Pincer we had when I was a boy. Roscoe was truly a one-of-a-kind Dog. I swear to this day that he actually understood the English language in a literal way.

He was a gentle, if not clumsy giant, full-grown physically at 6 months of age, but still retained the exuberance of a puppy. He would flounder in his grown body quite often. He would fall up a flight of stairs. Running full speed toward a flight, he would constantly mis-judge just how high he needed to leap to clear the fist set of stairs, and soundly whacking his forepaws on the stair itself, would send him flopping headfirst up the next 3 to 4 steps. Completely unabashed, he would right himself and carry-on as if that was his intended method.

I taught him early on to bare his teeth on command. In actuality, looking back it really only took me a few minutes. I would tell him to "smile" and then smile at him. I remember the look in his eyes, such focus and intent, and a strange light of comprehension as he looked intently back at me and mimicked my smile. Of course, on him, the effect was much more menacing in appearance, but he seemed so proud of himself. It served to be a great tool for my Mother as well, who would often take him for walks. Well, in reality he used to take her for "drags". Despite wearing a choke chain, he would pull and tug at the limit of his breath to get her to walk faster. I always told my Mom it was a good excuse for her to take up jogging! But, she always felt safe with our gentle giant, and could easily get people to cross the street just by making him sit and gently whispering in his ear "Smile, Roscoe". Out came the teeth and away went anyone she wasn't comfortable with.

He was my best friend during my formative years, and the bond we shared I still feel today. We would often play in our backyard. A game which must have looked to outsiders as though I was being attacked and in great peril. I would grab his ears, which were cropped so he always looked like he had to antennae standing on end always ready for action, and shake his head back and forth. Growling and snarling he would head butt me. But, always vigilant and faithful, he would always obey my commands. Mind, I had never specifically taught him anything, I just always spoke to him as though he understood me, and he always did! I'd stop and say "Roscoe! Who's over there? Go get him!" and point emphatically at the back corner of our fenced-in backyard. Always obedient, Roscoe would forget comepletely about our rough-housing and charge headlong toward the fence and the imaginary threat there. Upon reaching his destination, he would search high and low for the imagined foe and realizing he had been duped, would charge at me with a renewed vigor for play. I would lay on my back and sick my feet in the air to ward off his attempts to pounce on me, and spin around looking much like a turtle caught on his back to keep Roscoe from being able to land on my chest. Growling and yelping, we would perform our playful dance. Sometime he would best me and finally land in a heap on my chest, nearly knocking the wind out of me, and celebrate his victory by licking my face and nuzzling my chest. Other times, I would prevail at keeping him at bay, and once again dupe him into charging the fence line just as before to face an imagined threat.

He would sleep with me every night, which wasn't easy on me, as he loved to curl his 80 lb frame between my legs and rest his head on my thigh. I had amazing lower body flexibility thanks to our sleeping "arrangements". But, through the years we were together, we always shared an unspoken and very deep bond. Even though he couldn't speak, his eyes coveyed such depth of understanding and warmth. He always seemed to know my moods without me having to tell him, and always seemed to know just exactly how to respond to me. Roscoe was the first time I'd experienced and reveled in an unconditional love between kindred spirits and he showed me the depths of compassion and joy that were possible from letting go and wrapping yourself in the moment. I miss him, but still carry with me the boyhood joys and the lessons he taught me those years we shared together.