Murry has spent only one night in someone else’s home, and in that case my wife and I were still the only persons there. For the first time, Murry would be staying as a guest in the home of friends of mine in their company and without Laurie and Aaron. It was sure to be a challenge for a dog who doesn’t at first appear to like change in his routine.

Upon arrival, we could not have been there more than five minutes when Murry decided to lift his leg and urinate territorial style on a pillow in my friend’s living room. Good dog, Murry! I was embarrassed, to say the least. Murry got a good talkin’ to for that! The fact that my friend, Jim and his wife, Liz, owned a puppy had gotten Murry into a competitive mood, I suppose.

Murry seemed to immediately take to Jim in that strange way of his. I had a room to myself downstairs and every time Jim would come down the steps Murry would bark like the guard dog he is, even though he knew it was Jim and he was excited to see him. I think he recognized Jim as leader of the pack of this house. All night long, however, Murry growled at every little noise he heard, waking me constantly, so I didn’t get a good night’s sleep.

Jim also runs a small kennel and keeps 3 large dogs on his property in the country which he allows to run free sometimes. They were a little too wild for Murry’s tastes and Murry spent most of the next day avoiding them. I had to leave Murry with Jim and his adorable nine year old daughter Caitlin while I took a quick ride up to Maryland to visit my Dad. When I returned Murry received rave reviews for his game playing ways. Evidently, he’s good with a soccer ball, too.

The next night Murry had completely adjusted to being at this new house. He was tuckered out by playing so much during the day that he was ready to go to sleep during the early evening and he didn’t growl once during the night!

The following day, the entire family and I went out on Jim’s beautiful boat on the Potomac Creek, but for safety purposes we had to leave Murry behind. This would be the first time he would be left alone in someone else’s home. When we returned several hours later, he was happy to see us return and I was just as glad to see no damage, etc. Everything had gone perfectly. I was so proud of my boy!

Caitlin seemed to get a real kick out of Murry because her puppy isn’t old enough or domesticated enough to play games with her. I’m glad Murry does so well with children. He engages them in play and when he’s not included, he insists on being part of the action.

Well, it was time to say goodby to my friends and Murry was eager to jump back in the car. Although we both had a wonderful time, we were ready for the familiarity of our old home and the company of Laurie and Aaron. But I told Murry next time the Green family will come to visit us!

A friend of mine asked me the other day if I thought Murry’s breeder had taken advantage of me by selling me a puppy with a deformity to his foot. I countered that I had been informed, and that we both shared responsibility in the matter, and in any case, it was water well under the bridge. I did not know at the time the extent of the deformity to Murry’s foot, and I made no attempt to find out.

Upon further reflection I was not surprised to find that what happened with Murry was not unique. In my career as a teacher of emotionally disturbed children and adolescents I had the opportunity to forge meaningful relationships with some very special kids. Yes, most of these students had their problems and imperfections, but like diamonds in the rough, there were many that shined brightly and uniquely. How often I was able to find so much good in so-called "imperfect" people.

So true it is with Murry. Had I chose to say no, I never would have had the chance to own the dog of a lifetime, all for the sake of a deformed foot. What a waste! I remember telling Charlie at the time my reasoning for taking Murry: "Each of us comes to this world with at least one cross to bear", I wrote him, "and I suppose that foot will be Murry’s, so send him up!" I had seen pictures of Murry and I was already in love with him so nothing was going to stop me.

Murry doesn’t let the foot stop him either. Since he has had it all his life, he pays absolutely no attention to it, other than keeping it clean (Murry, like most toy manchester terriers likes to keep himself as clean as a cat). If he feels like running on three legs, no problem, he can move quite quickly on three, thank you. If he is chasing a frisbee, for example, he goes into four wheel drive. Our only concern is that the pad he has developed on the bottom of his foot is not a real one and we must avoid getting it infected. If it does, he might lose his leg. To keep this from happening we keep him off asphalt and cement surfaces where abrasion might take place. Luckily we have some space behind our backyard where Murry can run free, with a surface of grass and sand, and no worry of cars. There is nothing Murry loves more than the freedom of running around this space. We are working all the time on obeying commands when he is "off the leash" and he has made great progress. Murry has very strong instincts which sometimes get him into trouble but he also has a strong desire to please so there is always a constant battle going on inside his head.

Often adult stop me to ask what kind of dog Murry is, etc. thinking incorrectly that Murry is a pincher or toy Doberman. Children often mistake him for a puppy and inquire about his foot. I casually explain the cause of Murry’s "limp" and sometimes I say to them, "Murry is my special ed dog!" They get a good laugh out of that, and no truer words could be said.

Part One: Murry the Ferocious

Nobody likes to play more than Murry but there’s one thing he takes very seriously. It is his full-time job, his professional occupation and a self-imposed obligation to the family he has on his mind 24 hours a day. Murry provides guardian service of our house and property free of charge.

Always alert, always on the prowl, looking for danger at any moment, Murry’s big ears are capturing every sound in the environment for a potential threat. Unfortunately, many of these sounds are coming from the television set. It took a long time for Murry to figure out that the door bell on the TV was not the same as the real door bell. And if he hears a dog bark on TV and the sound is realistic enough, he will still bark back in return.

Murry is what you might call hypervigilant. If he’s asleep on my bed and someone walks up the stairwell towards my bedroom, he might scream-bark so suddenly and loudly that you will jump right out of your skin and your heart will skip a beat. He just doesn’t like being surprised even though 99 out of a 100 times it’s either my son or my wife coming up the steps.

Our living room and dining room are on the ground level and face the street. We usually keep these shades closed because Murry doesn’t like people walking down the street, especially the ones with dogs. The nerve of them coming near his house!

When the doorbell does ring, Murry flies into action. He can’t wait to bark at whatever stranger he thinks he can intimidate. "Does he bite?" some people ask. "Of course not", I reply, "He’s all bark and no bite", which is the truth. Murry’s favorite visitors are the UPS man and people who come to repair things in our house. The UPS guy always has packages and with packages are always the potential for treats! Repairmen who actually come into the house are treading in deep water. Sometimes we have to put him in his "cage" to keep Murry away from them. What he really wants is their attention. Are these good guys or bad guys? Murry actually can’t wait to meet and get to know new people but he has to put on a show of what a ferocious guard dog he is first. The truth is that he’s really just a pussy cat, and in fact the truth comes out when he is confronted by cats.

When Murry was a puppy we owned a cat named Sadie who Murry loved to chase and tease. Sadie was less than mildly amused by having another animal in the house so her tolerance of this new silly creature was limited. When Murry overstepped his bounds and they were out of sight of adults evidently Sadie did something to Murry to make him go into a blood-curdling screaming howl that would make you think his leg had been bit off! I never heard Murry make a noise like that before. And the only time I’ve ever heard him make it since is when he has been in a confrontation with a cat. It will scare the living daylights out of you! Murry high tails it looking for comfort looking horribly injured but in fact I’ve never found a mark on him. Mr. Ferocious has turned out to be a pansy.

Part Two: Mr. Sweetheart

For every "yin" about Murry, there is a "yang". Although he is a "ferocious" guard dog, he is the most gentle and affectionate dog I have ever owned. Murry and I bonded on the very first day I saw him when he was only about 8 weeks old. He snuggled into my lap on the way home from the airport as my son drove home and we’ve been best of friends ever since. In those days Murry spent a lot of time sleeping on my chest because he was so small. He still does that occasionally but he’s a little too big to do that and be comfortable for long today.

One thing you should know about Murry is that although he recognizes me as leader of the pack, so to speak, he spreads his love around to all members of his "pack", in other words, my wife Laurie and my son, Aaron. He gets just as excited to hear them approaching the back door as he does to hear me. He prefers to sleep with my son or my wife during the evening hours, with me during the daylight hours. He obeys commands from all of us, although he is a bit less obedient with my wife

(no surprise there).

Murry expresses his affection primarily through physical contact. He loves to cuddle up next to me on the bed while I’m watching TV, preferring to tuck himself under my right arm and sometimes resting his little head on my chest or my hip (that’s my favorite). Even when he tunnels under the comforter he will sometimes get right next to me before he plops himself down to settle for a little snooze. Murry takes all the kissing and hugging he gets for granted (he’d rather play) but I notice if he hasn’t received any cuddling for a significant period of time he will seek it out, and Murry knows how to get what he wants.

When I’m home Murry is my constant companion. He wants to be wherever I am throughout the day. If I’m taking a shower he waits quietly on the bathmat. If I’m headed outdoors to do some gardening, Murry is ahead of me waiting anxiously at the door to get outside. If he hears me getting my keys, he’s ready for a ride in the car. He doesn’t get look out the car windows much. He just likes being where I am.

Another way Murry demonstrates affection you might find a little gross. Murry loves to lick people. That’s the way, I suppose, dogs in a pack form bonds with another. When we say, "Give us a kiss, Murry", he gives us a lick. Sometimes he does this at odd times. Ever since he was a puppy, Murry licks the water off my legs when I get out of the shower. If I have a rash on my arm, he’ll go at it like there’s no tomorrow. And sometimes he’s just looking for a taste of something good!

One day I was packing my bags and suitcase for a trip I did not want to make. While all this was going on, of course, Murry was following me around, and when there was nothing left to do but wait for the time to leave for the airport, Murry jumped up on the couch, laid down on my chest and had the saddest look in his eyes. He knew I was leaving, probably for a while, and he didn’t want me to go I suppose. When I came home a few days later Murry was jumping up and down, licking me all over, running around the house, wagging his tail non-stop and was just the happiest dog you can imagine. If that’s not affection, I don’t know what is.

Having heard on television of a new trail adjacent to the James River, I chose a chilly Sunday afternoon to ride down to one of the City of Richmond’s James River Parks to do some walking. Finding a trail leading south, I immediately began to negotiate steep hills and narrow, winding dirt bike trails. Coming across a fellow traveler, I inquired where the trail led to. It turned out the trail led all the way to downtown Richmond to a place called Belle Isle, more than two miles down river. Even though we weren’t prepared for such a hike, I decided to go for it, and off we went.

The weather was cool and breezy and except for the lack of water I felt great. Murry, who was wearing a jacket, kept tugging gently at the leash, encouraging me to keep up the pace. We occasionally came upon other travelers with dogs. Murry was his usual sociable self: He even allowed a big husky German Shepard dog sniff him and as long as the other dogs did not pose a threat, Murry would wag his tail and generally show friendly dog behaviors. We finally reached Belle Isle, hoping to find someone selling something to drink, but to no avail. Belle Isle was the sight of a Union prison camp during the Civil War. Across the way is the Tregadar Iron Works–where they manufactured cannons and such for battles. The area is dotted with historic sights like that.

Well, it was time to turn around but I began to get concerned about Murry becoming tired and not having water. He was walking most of the time on three legs and I assumed this would wear on him. I decided I would carry him if I felt it became necessary to do so. But to my surprise, Murry resumed the walk and seemed determined not to let me slow down our pace as I tried to do! At one point I stopped and asked someone for water but she didn’t have any. So we just kept on walking. I did notice he used his fourth leg a bit more on the way back. But he continued to gently tug at the leash, always ready to move ahead. Because I have not exercised much recently, getting to the top of some of the hills, took much effort, but Murry was patient with me. Finally we reached the top of the end of the trail. My pride in Murry was never greater and I verbally praised him over and over again. He just looked at me with an expression that said, "What’s the big deal, Dad?" We got back in the car and when we got home, I rushed him to the water bowl and he barely took a sip. I laid on the bed exhausted and Murry went to find a toy, brought it to me and wanted to play fetch. He was by no means ready to finish having fun that day!

Dear Grandpa and Grandma, January 2006

It’s getting close to my second birthday (Jan. 11) so I thought I would write you just in case you forgot about me. I’m really enjoying life with the Lazar’s. With a name like Lazar, how could I have not hit the jackpot? Daddy likes to take me with him in the car where I mostly just want to sit in his lap. I don’t look out of the window much at all. I like being with him everywhere he goes, including the bathroom. When he takes a shower I wait on the bath mat. I like to give him a good licking as soon as he gets out! I’m not crazy about baths myself, though. Mom, Aaron and Dad take turns bathing me so I get one about once a week. When I hear "Do you wanna take a bath?" I run for cover. But after a bath I go crazy, running in circles, hopping and leap frogging around and just showing off what a clean dog I am.

I’m real good at engaging people and other dogs into playful activities and getting Mom, Aaron and Dad involved in play is my full time occupation. Most of the time this involves getting soft toys bringing them and waiting patiently for them to be thrown. Once I get them (always as fast as I possibly can) I shake them back and forth in a violent manner that shortens the life of most of the soft toys I have had. Then I bring them back for more fun. Sometimes we play tug of war. My teeth have gotten really big, sharp and strong. Sometimes Daddy lifts me up in the air because I refuse to give up on a toy.

Despite the problem with my foot, (I often walk around on 3 legs instead of 4) I can jump over the kitchen counter. This got me into big trouble with Mom a few days ago when I was able to grab a hunk of cheese that was on the kitchen counter (not near the edge, either). When I’m playing Frisbee with Aaron and I want to run really fast, I switch to four wheel drive. Don’t mean to brag but when I go on all cylinders I’m the fastest dog in the neighborhood. In fact I’m the only dog that gets to run free. I can do this because behind our house is a tract of land that was supposed to be a road but fortunately the road was cancelled leaving a protected green space.

As much as I love my fenced in backyard, there is nothing like the freedom of running in that space, visiting the other dogs in their yards, investigating this and that, learning what I can get away with and what I can’t. I like to meet new dogs and even if they are big dogs I have a way of letting them know I’m not a threat and I like to play. Most dogs I meet respond very nicely to me. Cats on the other hand...well let’s just say if a cat even looks at me cross eyed I will howl like I’ve been beaten with a stick. Maybe it’s some kind of cat phobia because I was brought up with a cat called Rosie who was kind of cranky. Rosie developed diabetes and had to be put to sleep when I was here only about 2 months. She used to chase me around till I got big enough to tease her and then she would scare the heck out of me when Momma wouldn’t protect me anymore. I miss her. But it’s nice having everyone to myself too.

Daddy wants me to use the leg with the bad foot as much as I can so the muscles in the leg don’t atrophy. We play fetch the soft toy in his bedroom often. He throws a soft toy of my choosing into the bathroom and I leap off the bed and slide into the floor of the bathroom just as fast as I can. Then I leap back onto the bed and give the toy a killer shake or two. Don’t get in the way of that because it’ll sting if you do! Daddy has taught me to drop the toy and wait patiently without going after it I expect him to throw it again, unless he wants to play tug o’ war or some other game. When this or any other game is over is over Daddy announces, "Game Over!" and that means we have to stop playing. I usually take a nap then because it’s not unusual for Daddy to throw a toy 25 times before he gives up and I wear him out.

Just because I follow daddy around everywhere doesn’t mean I don’t have a mind of my own. For a while I was living the night life with momma, who’s somewhat of a night owl. I even stopped sleeping in daddy’s bed and slept with Aaron for a long time but lately it’s been back with Daddy (it’s warmer in his room in the winter, he’s got an electric heater in there!). I love to nuzzle with him under the covers but eventually I find my own place on the bed. During the afternoon I almost always nap in the crook of his arm on the bed when he comes home from work. I like to rest my head on his chest and look contentedly up into his face, close my eyes and fall asleep. It makes Daddy’s blood pressure fall 10 points, which is good for him and he usually responds by giving me a good stroking and telling me what a good dog I am, etc. etc. I wish he would remember that the next time I crap on the carpet or get into the bathroom waste basket to see what I can chew up_ One thing I’ve gotten really good at is going out all by myself. Daddy sends me to "Go Out!" and I go do my business all by myself in the backyard. When I come back I get a treat sometimes. Sometimes I try to fake him out and I just run out there after a squirrel or a bird and then come back expecting a yum-yum but Daddy is pretty good at spying on me. I don’t allow anything in my backyard...and I head out there with a vengeance and a growl or a loud bard if I even think a cat, bird, dog, squirrel, or any other vermin has invaded my territory.

Mommy and Daddy sometimes say how different their lives would be without me. They say I make them laugh a lot and that I’m the first and last thing they think about when they get home. In fact I’m more like a member of the family than a family pet. Daddy says I’m the perfect dog because I combine the size he wanted with the attributes of athleticism, spirit, ferocity, intelligence, loyalty, cleanliness, and love. Am I really perfect? Well...not unless you forget about that pooping on the carpet I mentioned earlier. Sometimes I forget to tell people I need to go out, even though they rigged me a bell to ring near the back door that I can ring to let them know. I use it sometimes. And there is that bad habit of getting into small trash cans but lately I’ve been curtailing that. I’m on the hyper side and I do tend to bark a lot. Sometimes I bark at nothing, sometimes I’ll even growl when a member of my own family comes in the house. My hormones are on overdrive I guess. But he says he’s not going to "fix me" like they do to some other dogs. He says it would change my spirit, and that would be bad. Daddy is helping to train me to control this behavior so it doesn’t get out of hand. But when a stranger comes in the house and he’s not home, I can get pretty obnoxious with the barking. Daddy has taught me never to bite people, and that’s good, because I’ve got one heck of a set of chompers. They are big and white and some are sharp and my jaws are strong. I’ve accidentally bit Mom and Dad on the fingers and boy did they scream_ Mom gets exasperated because I tear up the" soft" toys she buys me in such a short amount of time but I try to tell her that that’s what you’re supposed to do! Sometimes I sneak out of the front gate and I get to run around the front side of the house. Daddy has taught me that I can run up and down the front lawns on our side of the street as long as I don’t run into the street. He doesn’t trust me but he knows I will occasionally get out so I must learn what is acceptable when I am outdoors and not fenced in. I have an innate tendency to chase and investigate so I think for a 14 year old I’m doing pretty well. When we go for a ride in the car Daddy expects me to stay in the vicinity of the car without a leash and "go out" in the bushes prior to jumping in the car if I expect to go with him. Otherwise I know from prior experience I’ll get put back in my "cage". My cage was reduced in half a long time ago to about 2X4 feet. Daddy never used the training methods the books suggest, probably why I’m still having accidents, but I’ve never once been in that carrier I arrived in that plane in! Daddy loves me!

Love,

Murry