Sunday Selections #503

 

Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files.

Huge thanks to Cie who gave me this wonderful Sunday Selections image.
  
The meme was then continued by River at Drifting through life.  Sadly she has now stepped aside (though she will join us some weeks), and I have accepted the mantle.  

The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent.  Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to me. Clicking on any of the photos will make them embiggen. 
I usually run with a theme.

For the last few weeks I have been posting photos of Floriade, my cities celebration of Spring.  There are more photos to come but this week I am stepping outside my comfort zone.

Anne in the kitchen said that she was curious about other blogger's lives and asked us to post a childhood photo and the stories/memories associated with that photo.  I am seriously photo phobic.  I don't like looking at myself and try not to inflict perpetual memories of the horror on other people.

However, these photos are a very definite part of my past. 

 

I was noted for my curiosity even then - and it is still one of my defining characteristics.

That majestic dog is Harris.  I apparently learned to walk pulling myself up on his tail and staggering along behind him - and am told he just about crossed his legs trying hard not to pull me off my wobbly feet.  I teethed on his ears - and he merely looked aggrieved.

He did pay me back by draining my bottle every chance he got. I have what I think is a real memory (and probably my first) of sitting on the front steps hammering him with the empty bottle. And an empty plastic bottle wielded by a two year old didn't faze him at all.   I should add it was entirely fair that he stole my bottle.  I apparently often stole and gnawed on his dog biscuits.

Harris was a trained attack dog and my father gave exhibitions where Harris attacked heavily padded people on command.  My father used to finish those exhibitions by tossing Harris's lead to his toddler daughter for her to lead him out of the ring.  I assume I was fully dressed at the time.

The family friend who took these photos was well known to Harris.  However when he arrived unexpectedly one day and started to walk into the house (my parents were visiting the next door neighbour), Harris simply wouldn't let him.  He bailed him up at the door and barked loud and long.  Neither would he let him leave.  Fortunately the commotion brought my parents home.  As soon as they arrived and greeted the family friend Harris was fine.  Hackles down, and tail wagging he welcomed the friend into the house.

We always had animals when I was growing up, and Harris was a stand out example. I still have a huge soft spot for German Shepherds.

I will revert to more usual (for me) posts next week - and probably also return to my photo heavy posts.

I hope your week to come is barkingly good.