A long time ago, my wife and I, bred German Shepard dogs. They were sold only after they reached nine months of age and obedience trained.
One year, a particular pup stood out as the most loyal, brave, and obedient one of the litter. He was named Tapfer (a German word for brave). When he was sold, like many of the others, it was sad to see them go. However, after about six months, Tapfer was sent back to us as a nervous wreck. He was systematically abused by the owner.
Tapfer became uncontrollable. He would respond to any obedience command by cowering and urinating. No matter how gentle we were in the command, he would just blank-out in absolute fear. The only thing he wanted to do was to play (chase the) stick.
My ex-wife used to say, "a dog cannot choose its owner, but can choose its master." However, she gave up Tapfer as a lost cause for rehabilitation since he no longer respected her as a former master. But I saw Tapfer as a lost dog, waiting to be found somehow.
About nine months later, the tick season was at its peak. Tapfer got a tick and showed signs of paralysis. We treated Tapfer like any other dog with tick poisoning, but he was not responding. We took him to the vet. The vet said that Tapfer was allergic to tick anti-venom, and there was nothing he could do. By the time we got back home, Tapfer was completely paralyzed. My wife said it is pointless to nurse him, but I did not listen. I stayed with him, on the floor, all night long. Tapfer and I went through a few touch-and-go episodes, but he made it through to the morning. By lunchtime, he was showing signs of improvement. Three days later he was his happy to play stick mood again.
A week later, I had to go into town to pick up my wife, but first I had to put Tapfer on the chain. I saw Tapfer, about 150 metres away, playing stick with the neighbors kids. I really did not feel like going over there to get him, but something told me to try giving him a call. So I called out, "Tapfer." Well you should have seen him! He spat out the stick and came running towards me. He stopped right in front of me to put his chain on him. I fell on my knees hugging him and crying. Tapfer was back!
On the way home from town, I told my wife what happened. She was happy but could not believe it. Once at home, she tried to give Tapfer a few basic commands, but he did not respond (but no longer fearful). Then I tried the commands, and Tapfer returned with perfect obedience responses. My wife instantly resented losing Tapfer to me, she knew then that Tapfer chose me to be his master, and their was nothing she could do about it. It was sad that she always carried that resentment.
