Meet Rex. A beautiful Alsation or German Shepherd. Family dog circa 1965. Mum adored him and it was mutual. They were practically married.
Rex was a large and beautiful dog. He was only one year old when this photograph was taken by Daddy during a social event at the local rec (recreation ground) in Crowthorne, Berkshire.
Rex adored Mum and Mum was crazy about Rex, however, Rex also had another great love. Male dogs. He tried on more than one occasion to impregnate a fellow dog and for his troubles he contracted a disease which resulted in a bright purple solution being applied to his… err… lipstick. Well! I’m being polite. As I say, he was a big dog and this applied to all parts of his body. Including his lipstick.
The vet duly painted Rex’s pertinent part with this aforementioned medicine which was so bright the poor dog may as well have had a neon sign on his head saying “Look at me!”
As much as Mum loved Rex she was too embarrassed to be seen out in public for all the world to see her dog going about with an aubergine hanging between his legs and thus taking the dog for a walk became Dad’s job. At least until the disease cleared up and things went back to normal.
Shortly after this episode I was feeling momentarily impish and I think possibly trying to get to Mum. I walked over to Rex who was pottering about in the garden, stood behind him and pulled his tail. Not hard. I was barely five years old at the time I didn’t have a lot of strength but I gave it a tug and he whipped round and had me pinned to the ground quicker than you could say, “I’m not too keen on little girls either so get lost, kid.”
There was I on the grass flat on my back staring up at this face with fangs staring down at me when moments later he jumped off and I scrambled to my feet. I wasn’t hurt but my little red corduroy pinafore dress was torn on both shoulders.
Right, I thought, I’m not having this. I walked indoors, changed into my little green matching corduroy pinafore dress, stopping only to complain to Mum on the way who basically told me it was my own fault. And it was. But still I hadn’t learnt my lesson as I went outside and did it again.
Quicker than a Bruce Lee kick I found myself back on the ground with a face panting over me. That’s when I gave in. Two dresses ruined in one day I submitted defeat, learnt my lesson, never did anything like that again, appreciated Mum could love both me and Rex, and salvaged what was left of my wardrobe.
RIP Rex. Beautiful dogs. I adore Alsations but for some reason to this day where German Shepherds are concerned it’s never been reciprocated. Weird or what? And with a name like Wolf too.