Greatest Dogs (280)

I have come to believe that dogs are one of many gifts from God to mankind. I have not always felt this way, and have not been the best steward of God's gifts, but have since come to believe this about dogs.

They serve human kind without complaining, without wanting sick pay, vacations, a medical plan or other benefits, or even a second thought. They only want to please humans, no matter what is asked of them. They’ll run themselves to death if allowed to, all to please a human. They are one of the few animals that are naturally domesticated.

Imagine all that they do: seeing-eye dogs, hunting (retrieving) dogs, search and rescue dogs, drug-sniffing dogs, cadaver-sniffing dogs, dogs that help autistic children, sled-pulling dogs, etc. There are even therapeutic dogs that are taken into hospitals and rest homes, to aid in patient’s outlooks. They have been a significant influence throughout my life. They are truly amazing.

So, this is a collection of the coolest dogs ever.

Welsh Terriers

The dogs pictured above are not ones that I've known, but only great examples of an adult and a Welsh Terrier pup.

The following is a list of the greatest dogs that ever lived!

Abbreviations: (degrees)
C.D. Companion Dog
CH Champion

"Sam", Best of Breed, June 18, 1978.

German Shepherd

"Magic" (1985-1997).

Born Jaunuary 1, 1985, died summer 1997. Probably the friendliest dog I have ever known. One of the only dogs I completely trusted around children. I recall the first time Magic ever saw a horse. She let out one of those scared barks. I think she thought it was a big dog, because dogs were the only thing she knew that stood on four legs. Losing Magic was like losing an old friend.

Border Collies

"Gus" and "Maggie" (Augustus Gustafson, right and Augusta Magdalene, left), pups at about 6 weeks.

This is a typical view of these two nut-heads. Maggie, about half the size of Gus, is about to beat-up on him again. It's becoming her trade-mark. And for some reason, we don't know why, they both like to bury their heads in the tall cool grass and rest for a bit, then move along, then bury again, then repeat this cycle over and over again.

More pictures forthcoming, as they grow...

"Sophie", a proud mother, and part of her litter (six of nine)! Gus and Maggie are both in this picture. Can you pick them out?

"Scottie", the father, about to mark his territory.

"Gus" and "Maggie" at Nine Weeks

We lost Maggie on July 7th, at eleven weeks, just before her 12 week photos. She would have looked something like Gus, in his 12 week old picture below.

The Death of Maggie

"Gus" at almost Twelve Weeks

"Gus" at 4 months

"Gus" at 6 months

October 2004. We've learned that Gus' brothers and sisters are all still only about half his size and weight (as Maggie was). We don't know what happened to Gus. This mutant, monster dog must have eaten the real Gus. As much fun as we have playing with this imposter (Jaws), we miss the real Gus as a pup, and his antagonist playmate Maggie.

December 2004. Gus, (saw-tooth) is 8 months old now. Ol' "gater-mouth" chews EVERYTHING! Indestructible bones get eaten. Our patio furniture has chew marks. Our park bench looks 100 years old. Entire plants get uprooted. The rubber floor mat that Gus used to sleep on got eaten…now he sleeps on cold concrete, but it’s his own fault. Once I saw him chewing on our metal table and chairs! Even his own water bowl is not off limits, after he’s slapped all the water out of it with his paws, of course. A few times, he has been particularly destructive and we have had to put him in his pen.

Oh, what fun!

"Gus" at 9 months

January 2005. This is a picture (below) of Gus basking in the sun, after a hard day's work destroying things. Digging holes and uprooting plants is hard work you know. He sleeps lightly, so we had to sneak this picture from inside the house, through the blinds. By the way, in case you're thinking the chairs are just randomly placed, they're not. In fact they are strategically placed. Everywhere you see a chair, there was a hole dug by the excavator. The chairs help the grass to regrow. You may also get a hint of missing shrubs that have not yet been replaced.

February 2005, Gus' first movie

Feb. 2005, Gus' second movie

"Gus" at 1 year, eating his birthday cake, just after a bath.

Good Dog!

August 2005, Gus' third movie (32 meg)

October 2005, Update: Gus, a.k.a. MISTER Gus, a.k.a. "Gush", a.k.a. "GUUUUSH!", a.k.a. Gussie, a.k.a. Gusser, a.k.a. Mr. Muddy Feet, a.k.a. Mr. Slobber Dog, a.k.a. Mr. Bark Dog, a.k.a. Mr. Sniff Dog, a.k.a. Mr. Eats Everything Dog, now weighs 65 lbs.!

January 2006, Update: Gus, a.k.a. Gussie-Moosie, now weighs a whopping 72 lbs.! How could this happen? Have we created a monster? Here he is (below) in the trunk of my car after jumping in. He's got to where he wants to go everywhere with us, so if we open so much as a door or even a trunk, he rushes to jump in.

"Gus" (below) at 2 years, resting. Now 77 lbs.!

November 2006, Update (two pictures below) Mr. Gus, now 80lbs, at 2 1/2 years.

Gus at 82 lbs. His weight just keeps going up.

Shepherd/Lab mix

March 18, 2007, Gus has a new play-mate. A little sister, sort-of. This is Ali (Alexandra Danielle). She is 12 weeks old, and 23 lbs.

May 12, 2007, Gus is now up to 85 lbs and Ali is 42 lbs. She is still skinny, but almost as tall as Gus is. She jumps all over him, but tolerates it.

January 2008, (below) Gus is weighing in at 94 lbs. But it's hard to find fat on him. He has a lot of fur for the winter and looks even bigger than he actually is. Ali on the other hand, has grown up, but is still skinny. She weighs in at 60 lbs.

Both dogs have become very personable. Gus has a unique way of showing affection. If we are sitting, he will try to get up close as possible, turn his head, and lean into us. It's hard to describe, but we are convinced it is his way of giving us a hug. He still barks a lot though.

Ali is still finicky about food. It's a wonder she has achieved 60 lbs. And she has finally started to bark (not a good thing) after a long period of silence. Her bark is sort of rolling/howling bark, and she looks right at us when doing it. We know she is trying to talk to us, but we don't know what she is try to say.

May 2008, Gus' forth movie (Ali's first). The dogs are play-fighting. (13 meg)

May 2008, (below) Gus is weighing in at (down to) 85 lbs. Ali is still skinny, still 60 lbs.

Feb 2016, Gus and Ali (Ali has gained weight, up to about 90 lbs now).

May 2017, Gus with one of his favorite toys, a large ball of any kind.

May 2018

Mr. Gus had a good life, and I cannot cite the thousands of great memories I have of him. Everything from playing, to eating, chasing toys, digging, getting bathed, going to see the doctor (the Vet), and on and on. All good, some frustrating, but still all good. We had gotten Gus and his sister Maggie as a gift from my wife’s sister and brother-in-law in Louisiana..

When Gus was younger, the appointed himself guard dog. We never taught him, but he figured out on his own what the door bell was, or someone knocking on the door. And he sure let who ever it was know that he was standing ready to repel any unwelcomed intruders.

Gus was the best howler I’ve ever heard. Like his deep, masculine bark of authority, his howl was like that of a pack leader. He would howl when he heard other dogs howl, or at fire truck or ambulance sirens (the city built a fire station about ½ mile away from our house). His howl was impressive enough that we rarely tried to silence him. I miss hearing his commanding howl. Ali would try to howl only after Gus got started. Ali’s howl unfortunately sounded like she was being tortured, so we discouraged her howl. But eventually it got better, and we only assume it was from listening and learning from Gus..

Mr. Gus barked all strangers. But he was actually a very nice. I used to say how he was “such a nice guy but he just didn’t want anyone else to know it”, and that’s why he barked at everyone. After some years, a few people won him over, like our neighbor Jim, and Carol’s brother Matt. After that, he didn’t bark at them.

Gus also stood watch over his little friend Ali, our other younger dog (she’s 11 as I write this). As much as we love our dogs, sometimes they have to be scolded. Gus always took his scolding like a man, without even a whimper. But when it came time to scold Ali, Gus would literally butt-in, and push himself between me and Ali, as if to take her punishment. We always said Gus was “running interference” for Ali, and it made my heart melt, and so my scoldings were nothing more that fussing at her. We witnessed this numerous times..

Gus quickly learned to look in the direction I pointed to, for whatever reason, like toys, or the newspaper. On “mini” walks down the driveway, I could simply point to the newspaper that had been thrown that morning, and Gus would go retrieve it for me (initially wanted to keep it, so to tear it up into a thousand shreds, but eventually he came to give it up and would let me have it).

I always told Ali she was “a little Cutie-Pie”, and then I’d reassure Gus that he himself was a “handsome devil, (although) mostly devil”. But in the last few weeks when we began to suspect he may be in his final days, I would call him a “handsome devil, (but) mostly handsome”. And it wasn’t just talk…as without debate, Ali is truly cute, and Gus was truly handsome, as pictures prove.

What I cannot understand, but ultimately do accept, is that animal life longevity is simply different from humans. How sad this is, because dogs are undoubtedly the closest naturally domesticated animals to humans. It is clear to me that God made dogs (especially dogs) to be a companion to humans. So why did He make their lives so short?

When asked about the lives of loved ones, humans or pets, so often I’ve heard “I have no regrets”. I really don’t understand this at all either. I have so many regrets about our dog Gus, even though he lived a full and happy life. He was happy all the time, almost always wagging his tail out of shear contentment in the joy of life, having no visible reason or obvious event for him to be joyous about. He was a healthy eater, which I always liked about him. He liked almost any food, dog food or human food. And he loved to play, his favorite game being tug of war. In his youth, he was strong and could easily out tug me when competing for ownership of a toy, or a play rope. Then he’d prance around carrying the prize in his mouth, so proud of having won the battle. He would bring me a ball to throw, just so he could run and retrieve it, bring it back to me to do it again until he got tired, and would settle down and lie down with the ball between his front legs as if to guard it from me. He was smart, consistent with the reputations of Border Collies.

But I regret not being able to spend more time with him. He dug many a hole in our back yard, and I so regret having scolded him for digging that last one maybe two weeks ago. If I only had him back now, I’d tell him he can dig as many holes as he wants, and I’m sorry for spanking or scolding him for all the digging in the past. I regret not sharing more of my food/meals with him, as my wife always did, as he so loved to eat. He loved meals, scraps and treats. On Friday, he ate his last complete dinner. On Saturday, he only ate half his normal meal. After that, until his demise on Tuesday, he would only eat food hand-fed from us, like scrambled eggs, or ice cream. He could not even stand up, or sit up to drink water. We would help hold his head up for him to drink water.

I regret that our other younger dog Ali, Gus’ long time friend and companion, is now alone. Ali is eleven, and she so looked up to Gus, and now she looks for him. She idolized Gus. She cannot hide that she is sad. It’s clear to us that she does not understand why he is not here. Now, with Gus gone, she sleeps in our bedroom on the floor by our bed, (she used to sleep with Gus in the living room). We try to comfort Ali when we can, in trying to comfort ourselves, by talking to her. There are many little quirks and habits Ali learned from Gus, ones clearly she did not have on her own when we got her, but now does a number of things that Gus used to do.

In his final days, Gus was losing his zest for life. Especially on his last day, and final hours of life. He had lost his spirit, something we tried to help him keep until the end. There are many examples of this I could cite.

On the way to the Vet, my wife and I were talking about Gus. My wife was always the one to feed the dogs, so we decided that over the 14 years of his life, she prepared his dinner over 5100 times (not including lunches and snacks). Gus always waited quietly and so patiently for his dinner, never whining or nose bumping us as Ali does. And he always seemed to give my wife a look of appreciation after the meal. Gus had a funny habit of after finishing his dinner, he would without fail come over to me, wherever I was sitting, and await the traditional petting, ear scratching and praise from me for finishing his dinner.

I believe Gus to be the smartest dog I’ve ever known. He was such a gentleman, and I always told him that he was “such a nice dog, he just didn’t want anyone to know it”. Gus had lost weight in his last months from a normal weight of 102 lbs down to 74 lbs, which is a whopping 25% loss total body weight. He just wasn’t eating like he used to, and I regret not detecting that sooner.

And now he is gone. I feel emptiness inside. We are so sad, despite the so many great memories of him. Thank you, Mr. Gus, for spending your lifetime with us. We miss you so much.

May 28, 2018 (Memorial Day)

Here is the email I sent to family and friends who knew Gus personally.

The Death of Gus

We lost our beloved Ali on September 5, our 12-1/2 year-old Shepherd/Retriever/Rottweiler mix. We loved her very much and now Carol and I are only two. Ali had been suffering for about a year and a half, since Gus' death, with heath problems.

Here's what I wrote on 9/6/2019

Yesterday we lost our beloved pet Ali (pronounced Alley or Owl-ee, aka Alexandra Danielle). She had been suffering from cancer for the last part of her adult life, and with more prominent tumors the last year and a half. We are again devastated now at her loss, as it has only been a little more than a year since we lost her buddy Gus, our 14 year old Border Collie. Ali was 12 years and 9 months old. At death, she weighed only 65 lbs, down from a one time high of 102 about a year and a half ago.

Ali had numerous tumors. Most were considered benign. We at one time had her have surgery for removal of an obvious one, but this was only a band-aid. Eventually, she would develop numerous tumors in various places that we could detect, and no telling the number of unknown tumors inside that we could not see or feel. One obvious tumor in her left rear leg bone was large enough that she had lost use of the entire leg, and she barely could get around. In her last days, she eventually could not walk or sit up to eat or drink. To drink water, she had to lay on one side, and I would hold her head up to drink sideways from a shallow bowl. Same with eating, she could only take food by hand feeding while on her side. This was very heart wrenching to see our beloved friend go through this.

At the veterinarian hospital yesterday, the doctor gave us our options. End of life options for a pet usually involve one of three courses of action: Take active action to fight the illness or otherwise extend life, euthanasia, or do nothing. We considered the option of taking action, which involved giving Ali an aggressive course of steroids, but the doctor did not recommend this for Ali. It seems about half of the dogs that go through this have no benefit at all, and the other half have success for only a week or so, then they are back again to where we are today with Ali. Finally, because Ali’s condition was so deteriorated, the doctor recommended putting Ali to sleep because her quality of life was not likely to improve. We discussed our options privately and eventually decided say goodbye to our beloved friend so she would not suffer any more.

We again find ourselves hurt, discouraged and depressed by this (another) loss. Carol finds some comfort in the belief that Ali has now crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and will be reunited with her buddy, our beloved Gus. I hope it’s true, but so far this has not helped me with my depression. The sense of loss I feel is profound.

An early photo of Ali, probably around 3 years old.

Summer 2018, Ali, on a hot summer afternoon, probably wondering why I take so many pictures of her.

December 19, 2018, Ali, trying to fall off to sleep in our bedroom.

We received a sympathy card from Carol's brother Matt and his wife Melanie, who originally gave us Ali when she was just a pup. The card read: "So sorry for y'alls loss. We will see them again."

"Courage is doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you're scared." --Eddie Rickenbacker

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