Quick back story before continuing.
When I was in Alaska, I adopted two dogs. An Alaskan Husky/German Shepherd mix, and a German Shepherd/I have no clue mix. The husky mix looks like a very streamline husky that always looks particularly annoyed.
However, I have my German Shepherd/I don’t know what mix who tends to look surprising happy or miserable at any given moment.
When people see Sahara, who is sixty pounds of pure idiocy, they think she’s a police dog. Little do they know, she’s missing a few brain cells.
She runs into doors, barks at her own farts, chases laser pointers until she throws up from the excitement, barks at the wind, sleeps in the bed between my husband and I, knocks over the trash can when my husband and I are in the room and when we yell at her, she looks at us like “What? You’re not eating it.” While she usually is pretty well behaved (I’m not a bad pet parent, she’s just dopey), she has her moments of pure stupidity. Which is probably why I love her so darn much.
Anyways, on to the story!
I decided one afternoon, where it was only in the 70s, that I would take my girls on a walk. It was about an hour until sunset and I figured that since it’s such a small neighborhood, I wouldn’t get lost.
Of course I got lost.
According to the military installation, we live in a high risk area for gang activity, but for the most part it’s retired military who own the houses and the gang activity is pretty nonexistent. Mostly it’s middle aged couples raising young kids in an area with a couple of elementary schools. During the day, it’s perfect suburbia. In the evening, it can get fairly dangerous.
So as I was walking around, hoping that someone would be sitting on their porch drinking sweet tea (that’s what people do here, right?) the sky begins to get fairly dark and the dogs are overly excited at the prospect of a very long walk. They’re jumping around and trying to rip my arm off chasing squirrels and raccoons. Finally, when I see the road that connects to the street I live on, I see what looks like a crowd of “hoods,” or wannabe gang members. I think. I don’t know, they were wearing baggy pants, wife beaters, big shoes, black zip up hoodies, and there was about six of them. They were passing around what I assume was a cigarette, and laughing. I got a little nervous, but kept walking, thinking if I kept my cool they wouldn’t approach me.
They began to walk towards me, and stopped like they ran into a brick wall when they saw this.
I know, absolutely terrifying, right? You can tell by the tongue hanging out of her mouth that she’s going to rip the hamstring right out of your leg and find every ounce of drugs in your pants because she’s a German Shepherd.
I heard one of the members yell out to me. “Hey, what kind of dog is that?”
Deciding to be sarcastic, I say “She’s a retired police dog. German Shepherd.”*
The man waived to me and said “Have a nice evening ma’am.”
I was saved by a runt German Shepherd because she looks like a German Shepherd. Not even an aggressive one at that.
I was later informed that only those who are law enforcement usually have German Shepherds, or at least most commonly. So the reason why nobody ever knocks on my door, why nobody talks to me when I walk my dogs, is because they’re German Shepherds.
Best. Dogs. Ever.
*Note: Sahara is NOT a retired police dog. She was found off Chena Hot Springs Road over a year ago. We have no idea where she’s from. We just know that she’s ours now and nobody can have her.