Clochard - Rescue at the last minute

11/22/1999

At the end of summer 1999, I learned that she the owner of Clochard had divorced in the spring: she was moving out, leaving the dog with her ex because she was now living in an apartment and had to work full-time. He was a shift worker and preferred to live at his girlfriend's apartment. And then, in mid-November 1999, I learned that Clochard was left behind—locked in the house where he grew up, with no access to the garden - alone for up to 16 hours a day.

On November 12, 1999, I learned that Clochard was being advertised in a newspaper - he was being given away. The fact that I had stipulated a right of first refusal on all my offspring in the purchase agreement, and that I was to be notified immediately if the dog was to be given away, was simply ignored. The phone lines were ringing off the hook for a while - after about three hours, I found a new home for Clochard. Now I called the current owner. I told him what I had heard and learned that there were already several people interested in adopting Clochard. I announced that I've found a new home for the dog - he wants to sleep on it, he needs a few more days to think it over. I have to be diplomatic and stay calm, otherwise Clochard will end up somewhere and I'll never know.

Four agonizingly long days, then the phone call from him on November 16^th: He thinks he might warm to my proposal if the price is right. No matter what, I'll pay anything as long as the dog gets out of there. I'll pick up Clochard myself. When? He says he can't make it until Thursday because of his shift work; his daughter will be with him then. Monday or Tuesday? I decide for Monday; the sooner the better. All the while, I'm afraid something will come up; the days are endless - anxious waiting.

Finally, it's November 22^nd. I drive to the agreed meeting point, a highway rest stop. I arrive much too early, but better to wait than be late. He finally arrives, somewhat late. Clochard's greeting is overwhelming; we haven't seen each other since August 1998. We quickly take care of the formalities: the pedigree is there, but not the vaccination certificate - he hasn't been able to find it for months, but the dog is vaccinated; I get him to sign a confirmation - and hand over the money. I rush out to the car and load Clochard's things. He sniffs the dog crate briefly and is already inside. I close the tailgate - let's get out of here, onto the motorway. As soon as I arrive, I call the new owners: everything's okay, I have the dog with me. They'll meet me. So, off I go on the West highwy to Vienna and then onto the South highway towards Clochard's new home. The little guy is completely calm in the car, only occasionally glancing around to see what's going on. It's only at the meeting point, where I'm to meet the new owners (another motorway service station), that I realize Clochard's condition. The tears are unstoppable - "my baby" doesn't deserve this. Yes, I know there are far more tragic cases, but what else but emptiness can a loving breeder feel at such a sight? Everything is called into question in that moment – ​​is it worth it? Can a breeder be responsible for something like this? Should I stop breeding? ....... Questions upon questions, and accusations too. .....

While I wait for Clochard's new owners, I take him for walks, play with him, and cuddle him. He's so grateful—these are moments I'll never forget. Then his new owners arrive. At first, Clochard is reserved, sitting down next to me and looking at me, as if asking, "What's this all about?" The ice is quickly broken - I have treats, and Clochard is easily bribed. Now he's even walking on a leash with his new owner. Things are looking good, but now we're taking a break - off to the restaurant. There, Clochard lies alternately between his new people and me, keeping a watchful eye on everything, and again and again I see that loving look from him - and a gentle wag of his tail. I almost smother him with my affection, but I can't help myself - his eyes seem to be begging for it. Now the new owner, a veterinarian, is examining him, and now - as far as one can quickly determine outside a veterinary clinic - almost the full extent of Clochard's condition is coming to light. All three of us are shocked - this dog had been completely neglected for a long time. The veterinarian believes that psychological damage would have appeared within two to three months at the most- it was a close call!

The photos from November 22^nd, 1999, in Clochard's slideshow partly show his pitiful condition. Let's start with the "minor" issues and work our way up to the more serious ones: His fur is dull, shaved to about 5 cm in length, and severely matted away from the skin - all over his body. His breath is barely noticeable. He has no muscle anywhere on his body, not even a jaw muscle. His head is nothing but bone, and that's exactly what you feel all over Clochard's body: his shoulder blades, every single bone of his spine, all his ribs, his hip bones - simply every single bone - without a single gram of "substance." Clochard is nothing more than a walking skeleton, held together only by his skin. Based on his bone structure, proportions, and size, Clochard would be the spitting image of a 40 to 45 kg male dog (he is the spitting image of his father  Samson)—he weighs a mere 28 kg, less than his smaller mother Yazoo. His stool is less than that of an 8-week-old Briard puppy, and his urine is brown, indicating prolonged dehydration. A case for animal welfare! It later turns out that due to malnutrition during his growth, some of his bones are deformed.

Clochard seems to be mentally sound  FOR NOW. He has blind trust in people who are well-disposed towards him. His eyes still have that lively sparkle, his gaze expressing an incredible longing for love. If you respond to it, he thanks you with a joy that gives no hint of what Clochard has been through in recent months. It's time – we have to move on.

Report the next day:

Everything went better than we all expected. The two dogs already living in the house were taken for a walk so that Clochard could inspect his new home in peace and eat his first meal (when was the last time he had one, I wonder???) in peace. Then the meeting: At first, Clochard doesn't understand that there are other dogs there – he's possessive; he has to protect HIS people. He only needs to be told once that the other two dogs also live here – and he accepts it. All three sleep in the same room – and it's quiet. The next morning: all three are playing in the garden, Xenia and the two brothers, Clochard and Esprit. :-) Only when Esprit gets too boisterous while Clochard wants to be left alone does he give a soft growl – the little brother understands and accepts it. So, there's another puppy from the C-litter in Edith and Michael's house after all.

Clochard's terrible separation anxiety seems to make things easier: no problems on walks – he's been off-leash from day one. In the house, he needs to see one of his humans; then he's content. Even at his mealtimes, he wants to see one of his humans, otherwise he immediately leaves the food bowl. But otherwise, Clochard already trusts his humans completely. And to top it all off, he's allowed to go everywhere with them, even if it's just a very short trip – Clochard HAS to be there, that's the most important thing right now. Another important point: he's fed small portions several times a day – his stomach needs to readjust slowly, and building up his body will also take some time, as Clochard has absolutely no stamina. How could he – completely lacking in muscle...? Soon Clochard will look the way he should at his age. Where better to care for him than in the hands of a veterinarian?!

But in the end, it WASN'T: He, too, was run over by his owner – just like his brother Chivas Regal. I'll never understand it. Didn't the man learn from having already killed a dog with his car? Doesn't such a terrible experience teach you to check several times whether a dog is near, behind, in front of, or under the car? What have I done to these two puppies? ......

Chivas Regal in Memory - His fate

(03/03/1998 - 08/25/1998)

Chivas, son of Samson and Yazoo, died in a tragic car accident: he was run over by his owner, a veterinarian, on his own property. Thankfully, he died instantly and didn't suffer. Far too young (only nine days before he would have turned six months old), far too soon, completely incomprehensible, without any sense, this wonderful Briard was taken from us.

Chivas leaves a great void in my heart as his breeder. All that remains are two months of memories of a wonderful, happy time here at the kennel.

 

Romeo in Memory

 

A wonderful dog has crossed the Rainbow Bridge far too soon. A tragic death: he perished in a fire in the house where he lived, along with his daughter Jasmine (Sagi's A Rose By And Other Name) and a mixed-breed dog.

Romeo was the spitting image of his father Samson - not only in his appearance, but also in his nature, his character .......... simply in everything. This tragic death has plunged his owners, his mistress, and his breeder into deep sorrow, and it also leaves an irreplaceable void in the breeding program of this outstanding Belgian-French line.

I can only hope that he and his daughter did not suffer too long, trapped in a fire from which they had no chance of escape, and that Romeo has found his way across the Rainbow Bridge to join his parents Samson and Yazoo, as well as his siblings Chivas Regal, Clochard and Einstein, who were also all taken from their owners suddenly, unexpectedly, and far too soon, leaving great gaps in the hearts of their loved ones.

The void these dogs left in so many hearts and in the Briard world will never be filled.

ROMEO - sire, grand-sire and great-grand sire of champions

Apollo in Memory 

APOLLO de la Maison du Garde-Barrière

As loving aura fills the sky
as you rest on clouds of fleece,
and angels gently tuck you in,
may you sleep in heavenly peace.

January 31, 1994 - July 1, 2006
Sire: Rec. Champ. SÁNDOR von Anitzberg (Austria * HD A/B, PRA clear, SNB clear * BgH 1+2 * Champion Slovakia 1997 * Koerung for lifetime - recommended for breeding)
Dam: ARWA Zevar CS (Import from Slovakia * HD A/A * SchH 1)

Apollo came from the first litter of my kennel, de la Maison du Garde-Barrière. He came to live with a retired couple in Lower Austria at eight weeks old; Apollo had already chosen the Hauser family himself at four weeks old. He had a wonderful life as the only dog ​​and was with his owners around the clock.

On April 15, 2005, I received an email from Apollo's veterinarian's assistant, informing me that this dog URGENTLY needed a new home: his owner was suffering from severe Alzheimer's and was in the hospital, and his wife was dying of cancer. Apollo's owner wanted to spare her beloved pet the animal shelter and had gone to the vet with the request to have Apollo euthanized. This was strictly refused due to Apollo's good health, and so they were now looking for someone who could give this dog a happy and happy retirement. The veterinary assistant had used the data in the pedigree and vaccination record to search for my address and found an email address.

Since my beloved Samson had crossed the Rainbow Bridge, exactly one month prior, I spontaneously decided to take in this dog. Apollo deserved to spend his golden years where he was born—I owed that to him and his owners. I even called his owner: I wanted her to know before she passed away that she no longer needed to worry about her darling, because he would be coming to live with me. Mrs. Hauser was very relieved and happy about this. That same evening, Apollo was picked up at the home of the veterinary assistant who had been keeping him for a few days. Apollo immediately got into the car and slept the entire way. What really got to me was that Apollo's entire life was packed in a plastic bag: his blanket, food and water bowls, vaccination record, pedigree, collar, leash, toys, even his puppy collar, which he had received from me, was all there. An entire life—11 years—packed in a plastic bag. …..

The owner of Akira, Apollo's sister, was with me and decided during the drive that he could take Apollo in, as he only had female dogs at home. Unfortunately, that didn't go well, because Apollo attacked the weakest member of the pack, a mixed-breed female dog who was seriously ill with leukemia. So, Apollo came to me the next day. After a short time, he recognized me, which probably made it a little easier for him to settle into his birthplace. Luckily, he ate the food I offered him from the very first moment, and with that, a major hurdle I had feared was overcome. My two female dogs, Whoopy and Oh-Lala, also helped Apollo a lot to feel comfortable here. In the end, he preferred Whoopy as his constant companion because she was much calmer than Oh-Lala.

On July 1^st, 2006, I had to say goodbye to Apollo and let him cross the Rainbow Bridge: his legs completely gave out and would no longer support him. For fourteen months, I lovingly cared for this sweet-hearted boy, making his final days more enjoyable after he was taken from a fulfilling and wonderful life with his owners at the age of 11.

I hope, dear Apollo, that I was able to be a good substitute for the loved ones for whom you were their whole world, their everything, for those 11 years.