Boxer dog stories featuring Tigger the brindle boxer

General Tigger
01/23/83 to 02/25/94

My New Home

Mom and dad saw an ad in the paper for me. A little boy had died in a family. My mate and I belonged to him. The family had decided to get rid of us.

Dad drove a long way to get me and when he got here, he called mom and said "they have two boxers." Mom said "I think we can only handle one right now." So my mate, a white female, was left behind. (Mom always said, this was one of her biggest mistakes, not getting both of us.)

I rode in the truck with Dad to my new home, but I was lonely leaving my mate behind, and I am sure she missed me as well. When Dad got me home he let me in the house and I was not used to that as I had always lived in a small pen outside. Mom and Dad said I was a handsome boy, except for one ear that had not been trimmed properly and lopped over my head.

I liked this being in the house stuff, but I had one problem, I did not know where the bathroom was, so I decided the living room couch was a great place to go, so I did. About the time I got started good, Dad said "NO-NO"! He took me out and put me in the garage all night.

The next day Mom was home and brought me in the house again and took me out about every two hours and I never used the bathroom in the house again my entire life.

Since I was two when Mom and Dad adopted me, they had to learn about me as time went on. They learned that I did not like cats, and if they came into my yard they might not get back out....and some didn't. My yard had a privacy fence, so I was not the one invading the cats territory, the were invading mine.

I also loved to snipe hunt. I never figured out exactly what a snipe was, but Dad knew where they stayed and he would have me look for them in the back of the yard. I looked around the shed and wood pile, because that is where they stayed according to Dad. I never saw a snipe in my life, but I did hunt them when Dad said they were there.

Mom and Dad also learned that I was more of a serious pup than most boxers. I wanted to protect my family. I was not aggressive, but I would alert them if someone strange came around. I never tried to bite or show any aggression, that is why Mom and Dad called me "The Gentle Giant".

My New Life

Mom and Dad worked a lot when I was younger, so I had to stay by myself a lot. I always wanted to be with them and one time when Dad was going someplace, he had the trunk open on the car. I decided I would stow away in the trunk. Dad caught me though and we all had a good laugh.

Even though they left me by myself a lot, I loved them very much, and would have rather been there in my home where I felt safe and loved than to have been given up for adoption, because they did not have the time for me. It hurts when we are given away as we feel unwanted, and everyone needs to be wanted.

I was a father once in my younger years. Our neighbors had a female, and she came into heat. Before Mom and Dad had the fence up, we had a "romantic encounter" and I became a dad. The neighbors moved away and left the mom and the pups. Guess what, Mom and Dad fostered them, until they could find them a home.

As the pups grew older and began to play I would watch, but I would not play with them.....as long as Mom and Dad were watching. When they were not watching I would play with them a little. I just didn't want them to know I liked playing with the puppies.

One day the pups were on the patio and Dad was out there with them throwing the ball. He would toss the ball a little and the puppies would run after it and bring it back. I thought that was stupid, but I watched and every time they would bring it back, Dad would praise them and say they were good puppies. I watched for about 5 minutes and I had seen enough. The next time Dad tossed the ball, I ran after it ahead of the puppies, got the ball and brought it to Dad. He was shocked, because I had never before done this, even though he had tried to play ball with me several times before the puppies. He tossed the ball again, but this time I looked at him like, "This is not going to be a habit. I want you to know, I can do that as well as the puppies, I just choose not to." I never chased a ball again the rest of my life.

The boxer dog story I am about to tell, shows we sometimes do very dumb things.

We lived in the mountains of Tennessee at the time and our house was on a mountain. We lived alone up there, so there was no fence and I could go in the woods and roam close to home. I never went to far from home.

Anyway, I wanted to take a short cut to the house. This involved me jumping from an embankment that was about 6 ft high. The landing area was the drainage ditch along the side of the road. Mom saw what I was going to do and tried to stop me, but it was too late. I leapt and landed on my feet, but I did not think about the road being higher than the ditch and my muzzle hit just shortly after my feet did. I did not break my jaw or any teeth, but it sure cut my chin up good and it knocked the breath out of me. Mom put some Neosporin ointment on my chin so it would not get infected. I learned a lesson that day and did not repeat that move again.

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