This morning, I opened the front door, and there on the porch was the large water bowl and a gallon of Crystal Geyser water.
Scott always made sure my sister's huge German Shepherd had water when he escorted my nieces back and forth from our home. My sister's dog doesn't bond with people he doesn't know. He is a protector, his job is to protect the kids in his care. We have black bears, mountain lions, and coyotes that live here.
My first dog when I was two years old was a German Shepherd called Rex, from there I had two other pure German Shepherds. Marseille in my teens to twenties. Katie, who I adopted from Hurricane Katrina, from my thirties to forties. I am dog less now. My middle sister has a German Shepherd named Lola. My baby sister always has a shepherd or a pack of them as big and powerful as police dogs.
In the two and half months, we have lived here, I've petted her shepherd's immense head maybe half dozen times. Although, most if not all animals bond with me immediately, my sister's shepherd did not.
He bonded with Scott.
It didn't take long. I watched as the big dog leaned in against Scott and let him pet and rub him. I watched as the big dog went to Scott first before me. I watched as the big dog looked for Scott when he was watering the garden.
Three days after Scott died, the big dog looked for him and couldn't find him.
My sister was sitting at home, when the big dog came back. The big dog approached her with what she told me was so much sorrow, she had never seen him so sick. She was worried. The big dog fell into her with his massive weight and cried. like only shepherd owners know, how shepherds cry. He cried and cried in my sister's arms as she tried to console him. She kept holding him until he couldn't cry anymore and then he went to bed.
A couple days later, he came in from his walk in the woods. His sorrow had left him.
I will make sure to keep his water bowl full until it's time for me to go.