PLEASE BEWARE: This is a sad, but true, story about a small-statured and young German Shephard male dog. He joined the McAllen Foutch family one Christmas Eve, sometime during the late 1950’s or early 1960’s on East Webb Street in Smithville, TN. Mom named him Blitz, a German name, after Santa’s sleigh-driving reindeer. Lucy and I were too young for establishing names. All we knew was that Blitzen worked not far from Rudolph, the red nosed reindeer! Without a doubt, he was very strong and one of Santa’s favorite transportive reindeer.
Little did Santa and Blitz know that the canine positively was going to change many lives forever.
The black and tan puppy entered our lives nestled in Flop Martin’s arms on one cold and snowy Smithville Christmas Eve, 60-years-ago. When Lucy and I first met Blitz, we initially thought he was a big, black bear, invading our space and privacy. Childhood screams penetrated the room. Blitz just starred. He could have cared less.
Blitz had an innate ability to act upon danger or any life-altering event. No one had to teach him any commands. They were self-taught,
To exemplify and for definitive clarity, young Lucy was riding her Twin bicycle with training wheels down a hill on East Webb Street, in direct correlation with the Billy Willingham house, which once was owned by Winnie and son, Pee Wee Webb, for whom the street is named.
The incident was known for many miles. Lucy and I attended The First United Methodist Church downtown. We walked to the nearby building on Sundays for Church every Worship Sunday. On days we inadvertently missed Church, Blitz would perch on the front porch outside the entrance doors. There he’d wait until perishers would leave the service. The crux of the story remains: Blitz always went to Church, with or without us.
Also, Blitz was an inbred traffic light when needed or required.
The faithful friend and constant companion and protector would always stop incoming or outgoing traffic on South Third Street. He stood in the center of the street, so that Lucy and I could safely cross to our friend, Yolanda Moore Barry's, house, directly across the street from our house.
Additionally, Blitz always escorted Lucy and me to Webb’s Pharmacy for a Chocolate Nut Sundae’s; the Dollar General store for anything; and Fuston’s 5 & 10 store for toys. He even stayed outside the Smithville Beauty School while Lucy and I used our $1.00 weekly allowance for a long shampoo session with Marie Stephens, director.
FOR THE LOVE OF A DOG reads, in part:
If you laugh, your dog, somehow, laughs with you.
If you are separated, your dog’s expression never changes.
If you cry and are sad, your dog will make you laugh again.
If you are cold, a dog will sit on your lap and warm you.
A dog can warm your soul, just by being there.
PERSONAL REMEMBRANCES:
Blitz was large; I was small.
Blitz was smart; I knew the alphabet.
Blitz was young; I was entering puberty.
Blitz was strong; I was weak.
Blitz was faithful; I was inconsistent.
Blitz was energetic; I was lethargic.
Blitz was protective; I was controlling.
Blitz was loving; I was minorly affectionate.
Blitz was appreciative; I was grateful.
At the end of Blitz’s life, we weren’t able to bury him in our earlier-created pet cemetery behind our house. Our best friend vanished one day without a trace. Blitz was never found, much like my son, Jim’s, little Dolly Judkins, who recently disappeared. Forever and always, Blitz and Dolly will be remembered, and cherished, and loved unconditionally.
In conclusion, there will probably never be a family dog more admired and loved than Blitz Foutch. For many years during my childhood and adolescence years, he was my family’s friend, family member, guardian, protector, and lover of life.
Always remember: “A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.”
