My First Dog: Pouncer, the Dog with Fourteen Names

My parents adopted a dog when I was in college, but I really didn't get to spend very much time with her, so, I consider the first dog I ever had to be Pouncer, a blonde Cocker Spaniel. I had just met my husband-to-be, and he had just lost his childhood pet, Amigo, a blonde Cocker. He was living in a studio apartment, and I had a house with a fenced back yard. He wanted a dog ... well, put two and one more together and you get three. He moved in, and we went in search for a dog. And, it had to be a Cocker Spaniel.

I had never really had a dog. I liked dogs, and enjoyed being with them, but I had never had one as my own. We found a person who was selling Cocker Spaniel puppies, and we went to have a look. Of course we fell in love with them right away. I picked out one that was cuddly and sweet, and she curled up on my lap, and I decided that was the one. My husband-to-be fell in love with another one: rambunctious, playful, running around, mouthy, you name it ... in other words, I was skeptical. But he decided that was the one, so we paid the people and came home with our treasure.

From that point on, Pouncer was, to put it mildly, quite the adventure. I was never able to train Pouncer, or to house break him. It just wasn't his thing. I took him to a dog training class once. I worked with him day in and out, and I THOUGHT I had him through all of the down, sit, stay, etc. But at the end of the class when it was time to show what you had accomplished, when I said "sit" he stood up. When I said "stay" he walked around. When I said "down" he sat. *sigh* We were the only team that didn't graduate the class. They gave ice cream coupons to all of the dogs that had passed the class. I took my failure to Dairy Queen and got a vanilla cone through the drive-in window anyway and offered it to Pouncer. And, like everything else, instead of licking it, he just about took my hand off!

We were living in a duplex in Lenexa, Kansas by that time and were keeping him in a nice fenced in back yard, but our next-door neighbors got a kick out of teaching him how to jump the fence. We were not too happy about that, because that meant we either had to keep him tied up near his doghouse, or keep him in the garage where he made a mess. I had started horse riding and we bought two horses that we were boarding, and we made the decision that living in a duplex just wasn't working out, and we bought a property in the country, where Pouncer could run, and I could keep my horses.

The day that we moved, Kansas City had the 3rd worst ice storm in the history of record keeping. It started out as a cold cloudy day, and when the movers showed up and started putting everything in the truck, all of the sudden little balls of ice started pouring down and collecting on the roof of our house and running off. It was difficult to walk through it. It was just pouring down like crazy. I have since learned that is called Graupel. The movers were not sure they could load the truck, but then it stopped, they finished loading, and we were on our way.

When we got to our new home, and the movers started unloading the truck, then it started raining. It was just below freezing, and had been freezing for days, and the rain was coming down hard. It froze on contact to EVERYTHING. The movers had a ramp coming down from the truck, but that froze over right away. So then they started just pulling things off of the truck, but the driveway was covered with ice. There was no way they had the time to properly unload the truck and put things where I wanted them, so instead they got as close to the garage as they could, and put EVERYTHING packed into the garage. 

I had gone through three coats and was soaked to the skin along with Joe, but everything was at least in the house. And then I thought ... POUNCER! We had left him tied to his doghouse. We rushed back over to the duplex to find him with little pieces of ice in his fur, but otherwise, OK. However, I had put some frozen food from our refrigerator outside thinking it would be fine until I could get it to the new house, except Pouncer ate TWO frozen chickens! I have never figured out how in the world he was able to eat chicken that was frozen solid.

We got back to our house and pushed the button on the garage door button ... nothing. Pushed it again ... nothing. So, we unlocked the front door and went inside, and our electricity was off. There was so much damage from ice that day that we went without electricity for 5 days. Thank goodness we had a fireplace.

But living out in the country that opened the world for Pouncer. I would not do it today, but at the time, we let him do pretty much what he wanted to do. He had a doghouse right outside the house and he stayed in it at night, but during the day we let him run around. He would always be with us as we did our chores. He went with me when I rode my horses. He could come inside the house from time to time. He roamed through the pastures, grass, and crop fields. He jumped into the lakes and ponds and sometimes swam all the way across. He ended up becoming a really happy dog.

We started adding names to his first name, Pouncer, because he was such a character. Amigo Bueno, because he was such a good friend. Skin Rat, because when he went swimming in the pond that's what he looked like when he came out all wet ... a skinned rat. Flap Ears, because of the way his ears would fly out as he ran around. George Brett, for the third baseman for the Kansas City Royals for 20 years famous for the pine tar incident where he threw all of the batting helmets on the field, because Pouncer was totally uninhibited and just went after everything. 

Swimmer ... because he LOVED to swim! He was always getting in the water unless it was winter. Joe used to toss him off a dock into the lake, and he would swim back, emerge all wiggly, tail wagging, happy as can be, and ask to do it again!

Then ET. My brother gave him that name. It stands for "Extra Testicle." He had a bad habit of using someone's leg ... anyone who has had a dog will understand. Tomato Eater, because the first year I had a garden and planted tomatoes and was just about to harvest some particularly ripe ones, and I go outside to find them in Pouncer's mouth!

In 1984 I went on a business trip to San Francisco, and Joe went with me. Joe's father took care of our house, the horses, and Pouncer while we were away. During that time, we kept him tied up since we were not going to be home. Before we got back, a small tornado came through the area where we lived. It blew down our fences, and ripped our horse shed out of the ground and threw it several acres away. Joe's father rushed out to check on Pouncer, expecting the worst, but there he was, by some miracle, still sitting there in front of his doghouse. So that year, we gave him the name Tornado.

He developed a fondness for turtles. Land turtles. At that time, we had a lot more wildlife that we have now, and it wasn't uncommon to come upon land turtles fairly often. He decided he liked turtles, and he would bring them to us. He never hurt them. He just found them and dropped them as a gift at our feet. So, even though he didn't hurt them, we added Turtle Eater.

Another time, we got up in the morning, and went out on the front porch, and it looked like someone had painted the front porch with blood. There were blood splatters EVERYWHERE. Again, thinking the worst, we went searching for Pouncer. We found him, relatively unhurt, except for a few gashes that the vet sewed up for us that day. But we also found a HUGE muskrat, dead on the front porch. Apparently, Pouncer went several rounds with a muskrat, and won. Muskrats are very large and aggressive. I have no idea how that little cocker went paw to paw with a muskrat and came out on top, but he did.

Probably the most endearing moment came when we named him Kitten Holder. We had a stray mother cat in our barn who had just had kittens. We had started the process of trying to get the kittens used to being handled. Living out in the country, we had stray cats and dogs frequently. When I went out to the barn several days after the kittens were born, I found a sad and distressing scene ... something had gotten inside and killed all of the kittens, and the mother cat was gone. We were sick. And then, here comes Pouncer. He had something in his mouth. He was drooling profusely. I started to look at his mouth, and I heard a little "mew" coming from his mouth. Then, he dropped a kitten at our feet. He had protected that kitten, in his mouth, for how long I have no idea. I picked the little thing up and took it inside the house. It was covered in saliva but seemed OK. I didn't know if I could save it or not. I washed it in warm soap and water and dried it with a towel. I started bottle feeding it, and that cat lived many more years. He earned his name that day: Kitten Holder.

But then time took over. Pouncer lived to be fourteen years old before we had to let him go. He became gray around the muzzle, and his eyes grew dim and cloudy, but he always followed us around everywhere and got into as much trouble as he could manage, up until the time he just couldn't do it anymore. Old Man Rossini, we miss you.