When we moved to the farm when I was three, we acquired a puppy.  He was half Black Labrador, and half German Shepard.  His momma (the lab) seemed like a sweet soul from what I understand.  His daddy (the Shepard) was kept caged in a pen away from the people, so he didn’t attack them.  He got a bit of both of them.  My dad thought Scooby Doo was a stellar name for him, even though he was pitch black.

Over the years he developed quite the personality.  He was very much a pack animal.  Dad was the alpha male of our pack and he was second in command.  Our pack consisted of our little family unit of my parents, my sister and I and Scooby.  That was all.  Everyone else need not apply for admission into the pack…it was full up as far as he was concerned.  Do not try to be friends, just stay a safe distance away and we will all get along.

He was our constant companion in our solitary farm life, and sometimes, our babysitter.  Being as we didn’t have boatloads of cash since my parents owned a farm in the 80’s, as soon as we could be without a sitter we were left to make our own macaroni and cheese.  No wonder I’m such a deft hand at cooking now, right? 😉

If someone would come up our long driveway, and Scooby was alone with us…he wouldn’t allow them to get out of their car.  Unless we stood and told him it was okay…and held onto his 100+ pounds of protective-alpha-male-you-hurt-my-people-I’m-gonna-attack-you dog.  We were significantly less than 100 pounds, so the delivery guys usually looked a bit nervous.

They had reason to be…

Now this story about Scooby is a little iffy on whether my sister and I were home alone or if the whole family was gone at the time.  My dad tends to “embellish” stories a bit, so we all may have been gone at the time.

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One day my dad came home and was going into the house the usual way, up the back steps.  This door was on the back side of the house with a few cement steps up into the house.  He noticed a bit of blood on those steps.  Well now…that is strange!  Being a hunter used to tracking game (and a Platoon leader for reconnaissance missions in Vietnam), my dad tracked the blood.

It became obvious to him that what he was following was a blood trail of a human.  A human that apparently tried to break into the back door of our house.  There had been some break-ins around the neighborhood, with guns being stolen (hunting rifles and shotguns and such).  Unfortunately for this burglar, he didn’t realize that our dog was more than happy to make a citizens arrest…or something like that.

The likeliest scenario is that Scooby saw the stranger attempting to enter our house, and not giving him a chance to escape…attacked the thief.  I can just see it happening.  That big dog of ours was pretty quick when he wanted to be.  He would not have wasted any time standing there barking like some dogs.  He was not afraid, and would have seen no reason to warn the thief about what was to befall him.  No, old Scoob would have seen this person attempting to enter HIS HOUSE, and he would have run full bore in attack mode.  The thief probably never saw him coming until it was too late. 

Thus, the blood on the step.

In Dad’s tracking, he found that Scooby had gotten the guy down on the ground two or three times, but the guy managed to get back up and make a run for his car.  He had parked it on the road, across one of our fields.  He was clearly not a visitor, and was up to no good.  In his flight, he managed to get under his car for a spell until he could finally climb in and speed away from the big mean farm dog.

Dad was rather relieved that he didn’t find a dead body.  This dog had killed a badger, and if you know anything about badgers you would understand the peril that faced this thief.

Surprisingly…he never returned, nor were any charges filed for our dog nearly killing him, nor were we sued.  It was clearly the early 80’s.  In this day and age, the thief would have sued them for their dangerous dog.

I have more stories about Scooby Doo, but I’ll save them for another day.  This one is definitely the most memorable of them.  I have nothing but fond memories of Scooby, but of course…he liked me and I was of his pack.   And he let me do things like this to him… 😉