First one is Ginger. Not sure what she was. A friend of my youngest daughter was coming back from spring break. Middle of the night in South Carolina when they spotted a dog in the median of I-95. They stopped and managed to call her over to the car. No tags, collar or anything. Obviously a 6 - 9 month puppy at the time. Starving and thirsty. So they gave her some water and let her into their car.
Two days later they brought her to our house in Virginia to show. She looked much better having had some food, water and a warm, safe place to sleep. But she wouldn't come to me. She just cowered at the other end of the car seat. So I just sat down on the bottom sill of the door with my back to her. Took about 5 minutes and offers of treats but eventually a nose came over my right shoulder. I then knew this dog needed a loving family and I couldn't think of a better one than mine. So we adopted her the next day.
Vet said she was about 9 months. Traumatized by something, she would come to me but was unsure of me at first. Especially when I had my motorcycle jacket on. Didn't like uniforms either.
First day I came home from work she came to greet me at the door. I reached out to scratch her head and she dropped to her belly and peed. Frightened. She was also very sensitive about her ears and top of her butt. She'd snap at you if you touched her wrong. Eventually she came to trust us and we could rough house any way we wanted with her. To include ears and butt. But a stranger would always get snapped at if they touched her wrong. With children she was a guard dog. The smaller the child the more alert and protective she became. Yet she never tried to keep any kid from their parents. Nor did she ever nip at one.
We had her for 13 years. But she had a bad rear end and eventually stairs, in/out of cars and even going to the bathroom became near impossible. That was the hardest day of my life.
Her final days and favorite window:
Last but not least is my ornery, stubborn mule. The skinny two legged one, not the horse. The horse is now 21 years old she was 5 or so when this pic was taken. We've had her since she was 18 months and not even what I'd call green broke. But the daughter at 15 years wanted her first horse and we could afford it so.......... Cherokee is 1/2 Appaloosa, 3/8 Thoroughbred and 1/8 Percheron. She's 16 hands (daughter is 6'1"). My daughter trained her using natural horsemanship techniques and is able to bare back that animal on the trails with no tack what so ever. Another loved member of the family.