Enzo was my German Shepherd. He was trained in Germany in a Schutzhund 3 program, graduated top of his class six months earlier than expected. We got him when he was 2 1/2  years old because that’s how long the training took. These dogs are trained for the police, or anyone that wants an attack dog.

I wanted a fire arm (for protection), but my husband wanted a dog (for protection). The fire arm would’ve been a LOT less work!

Enzo was the type of dog who never met a stranger, never barked, loved all animals, people, and food. If you saw him, you would’ve been frightened… he looked mean and intimidating. Don’t get me wrong, if I used the German command for attack, he would. Just as if I used the command for bark, he would. Obviously he was trained to be silent and deadly.

The dog had attitude. For example, if the doorbell rang he looked at me (God forbid he was more than an inch away from me) with his eyes that spoke, “dude, you gonna’ get that? I sure as heck won’t.” People had no idea I had a dog in the house. But once I did open the door, he was the first to greet you and he would be ticked off if you didn’t introduce him. I swear – all true.

He used to run out the door and trot along the road hoping to get into some sort of “conversation” with anyone or any animal he met. He was the neighborhood ambassador. Personality plus. I had people calling me asking if I owned a large dog (he weighed 140) who must’ve escaped, and asked if he was a biter. ARE YOU CRAPPING ME? The dog was a gentle giant. He would lay down his life before biting anyone. People would ask, “if I call his name, do you think he would get in my car (so that I could drop him off at your house)? Dude, the dog will go to ANYONE. Anything that was living, was a FRIEND.

Enzo's Ears!

He was eight when he died in October, 2016. We didn’t know he was dying until he couldn’t get up one morning. Brought him to the vet who told me to bring him to the animal hospital… after several x-rays they found a lot of cancer throughout his entire body. Vet said if it was her dog, she would put him down right away, not to wait until after the weekend.

Guess who had THAT privilege??? I will never forget how wonderful the animal hospital was. They asked what they could bring him for his “last supper.” Since he hadn’t eaten animal protein in two years, I told them any type of meat. They brought him mac & glue and chicken tenders. He died a very happy puppy, right in my lap.

He was my first and my last dog. (I say that now…)


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