In Vet school you learn a LOT about everything and get to see doctors handle many different medical scenarios. It was wonderful being around so much knowledge. Intelligence was a very important attribute as far as I was concerned. I wanted a puppy and I wanted a SMART one. My Grandmother had given me some money for my birthday….. I felt a puppy would be a good investment. Nothing but a Border Collie would satisfy me. I went out to see some puppies and the breeder sent the “Puppy Daddy” out to work some sheep. Of course I was impressed, since I hadn’t seen a lot of dogs work in my life and his Dad was a Competition Trial dog. I gave the man the money and took my new puppy home. That was the only ride that GUMBY ever took in the front seat, cradled in my hand. At that time he was small enough to run under my roommate, Dr. Dennis Geiser’s 300ZX without even ducking.
I spent A LOT of time with him. He was my release after a long day in clinics. I would sit in the floor and work with him, talk with him, play with him and teach him anything I could think of. His vocabulary was extensive. I worked with him to the point, that I could start saying the alphabet and somewhere in the middle I would give him a command. He could somehow pick those words out and understand what he was supposed to get; whether it was a Frisbee, rope, ball, etc. He was VERY focused on whatever I said, much like my human children are now {insert snide comment here______}. Even other people could tell him what to do and he would do it; of course if I was around he would look back at me to see if it was OK. I thought I was so cotton picking smart because I could train my dog to do almost anything. He would climb up on top of anything if I told him. I set aside an entire Sunday afternoon to teach him how to “kennel”, into the new pen that Dennis had fixed, but after 5 minutes he had it completely figured out. Maybe I didn’t deserve the credit after all. People would ask me; “why doesn’t Gumby bark?” and I would tell them, because I told him not to. Profound, don’t you think? He is still the most intelligent dog I have ever been around and we were connected. One day he had gotten into something smelly and I simply said, "Gumby you stink", and he promptly went and sat in a corner. I had never told him that before and used no inflection in my voice that would make him think I was mad at him. He comprehended so much more than I thought a dog ever could. He got to go everywhere because he was so well behaved. Once we were at a friend's house and I noticed him helping himself to their dog's food bowl. I told him that it wasn't his. He didn't just stop eating it, he actually spit out what he had in his mouth!
As with most Border Collies, he went through his gawky stage. My classmates and professors harassed me unmercifully during his not so handsome period. He didn't LOOK very smart. He would travel with me whenever possible. He rode in the back of my Jeep Cherokee with his head hanging out. He was a drooler and the side of my Jeep was absolutely NASTY. On a trip for an Externship in Houston, he stood looking out for 9 hours, before ever lying down. Starting as a little puppy, I made him go to the bathroom before he could get in his Jeep. His command was “Hurry up.” Every time I told him that for the rest of his life he would go to the bathroom, or at least pretend. When he was just a young pup, I took him to school on a Saturday while on Radiology Rotation. There were very few people in clinics that day, so I could let him cry it out and learn to stay in a cage by himself. Of course he wailed when left by himself, but sure enough after a relatively short time all was quiet. I was of course very proud of myself and my wonderful training ability. I decided to go get him later and I found out what had quieted him….. My Roommate had RESCUED him! Oh well, so much for my Trainer Ego.
Gumby was amazing and could outrun everything (except for one Whippet on one day). He was remarkable with a Frisbee, as long as he was by himself. If there were other dogs out chasing the Frisbee, his job changed from catcher to herder and he would simply outrun all of the other dogs to try to turn them back to me. The herding instinct was in him. He could run and run and run. The summer after graduation we spent a lot of time at the farm. Without any training, I could tell him to go get the cows and he would bring them. Of course, our Herefords were easy. They would run from the backside of the pasture if you honked or rattled a feed bucket, but Gumby felt an accomplishment by bringing them to the barn. My mare had a filly (named Pokey to go along with Gumby) who was a wonderful playmate. Gumby would stop running just long enough to go jump in the water trough to cool off, then back to his "job". His heart rate was below 40 and his thighs were bigger around than his waist. He was an athlete.
He & I practiced in Indiana for a while, and then moved to Las Vegas for about a year. At that time he was not neutered and he figured that out. One day someone came to our hospital and said he found my dog at a post office. Gumby had traveled across one of the top 5 busiest intersections in Vegas that day. The man that brought him in said that he told him to get in his car and he did, but he didn’t know what to tell him to get him out. I got him out and that night we stayed after work and he was no longer, not neutered! I wasn’t sure how he had gotten out, but later found out that he would jump on the wall at the back of my yard and tightrope around, sometimes hopping over into the neighbor dog’s yard to play. I took the picture below, the day I caught him in the act.
After moving back home to Dyersburg, I became known more as Gumby’s owner than Dr. White. I was used to that, since I grew up being Nancy, Marion & Sally’s brother or PH & Polly’s son. He would go with me to different classrooms or scout camps to show off his skills. If I couldn’t make it, someone else could take him and he would do whatever they said. After these outings, the kids would crowd around him, and he was always willing (maybe not so eager) to allow them to pet and pet and pull and rub and pet all over him. He later taught Sydney to do the same thing.
He didn't like Sydney when she first arrived on the scene. His life was pretty good and he didn't see the need to have some cute little blonde Golden Retriever hanging around. He SAID that she fell out of the convertible that day, but I'm not so sure he didn't push her. As usually happens, they became inseparable....into the SUV every morning to work, somewhere at noon, then back home after work. As many dogs do, they knew what time everything was going to happen.
I was getting ready for a seminar in Knoxville and was petting on Gumby when I felt a swelling in his abdomen. He hadn't been sick, no weight loss, normal appetite, not painful, I was leaving later that day, I was imagining things, Gumby can't have a problem, he was only 10, it wouldn't be there when I got back; I was going to will it away. Those few days of separation were tough. Of course when I got home, it was still there. I went in surgically to explore. I can’t imagine putting anyone else in the position of doing surgery on Gumby, and I had never seen my hand shake like that. I found a 4 inch mass on his spleen that I knew was cancerous and there was little doubt that it had already seeded to other places in his abdomen. I removed the spleen and would hope for the best. The pathology report said it was a poorly-differentiated Hemangiosarcoma………. A bad diagnosis. I did a lot of researching, thinking, praying, hugging….oh yeah, I bought him a truck. He always wanted a truck.
He went down fairly rapidly, but he did enjoy his rides. After he was gone, I took his body to the farm and buried him where the cows would walk near him every day. Gumby loved the farm.
I spent A LOT of time with him. He was my release after a long day in clinics. I would sit in the floor and work with him, talk with him, play with him and teach him anything I could think of. His vocabulary was extensive. I worked with him to the point, that I could start saying the alphabet and somewhere in the middle I would give him a command. He could somehow pick those words out and understand what he was supposed to get; whether it was a Frisbee, rope, ball, etc. He was VERY focused on whatever I said, much like my human children are now {insert snide comment here______}. Even other people could tell him what to do and he would do it; of course if I was around he would look back at me to see if it was OK. I thought I was so cotton picking smart because I could train my dog to do almost anything. He would climb up on top of anything if I told him. I set aside an entire Sunday afternoon to teach him how to “kennel”, into the new pen that Dennis had fixed, but after 5 minutes he had it completely figured out. Maybe I didn’t deserve the credit after all. People would ask me; “why doesn’t Gumby bark?” and I would tell them, because I told him not to. Profound, don’t you think? He is still the most intelligent dog I have ever been around and we were connected. One day he had gotten into something smelly and I simply said, "Gumby you stink", and he promptly went and sat in a corner. I had never told him that before and used no inflection in my voice that would make him think I was mad at him. He comprehended so much more than I thought a dog ever could. He got to go everywhere because he was so well behaved. Once we were at a friend's house and I noticed him helping himself to their dog's food bowl. I told him that it wasn't his. He didn't just stop eating it, he actually spit out what he had in his mouth!
As with most Border Collies, he went through his gawky stage. My classmates and professors harassed me unmercifully during his not so handsome period. He didn't LOOK very smart. He would travel with me whenever possible. He rode in the back of my Jeep Cherokee with his head hanging out. He was a drooler and the side of my Jeep was absolutely NASTY. On a trip for an Externship in Houston, he stood looking out for 9 hours, before ever lying down. Starting as a little puppy, I made him go to the bathroom before he could get in his Jeep. His command was “Hurry up.” Every time I told him that for the rest of his life he would go to the bathroom, or at least pretend. When he was just a young pup, I took him to school on a Saturday while on Radiology Rotation. There were very few people in clinics that day, so I could let him cry it out and learn to stay in a cage by himself. Of course he wailed when left by himself, but sure enough after a relatively short time all was quiet. I was of course very proud of myself and my wonderful training ability. I decided to go get him later and I found out what had quieted him….. My Roommate had RESCUED him! Oh well, so much for my Trainer Ego.
Gumby was amazing and could outrun everything (except for one Whippet on one day). He was remarkable with a Frisbee, as long as he was by himself. If there were other dogs out chasing the Frisbee, his job changed from catcher to herder and he would simply outrun all of the other dogs to try to turn them back to me. The herding instinct was in him. He could run and run and run. The summer after graduation we spent a lot of time at the farm. Without any training, I could tell him to go get the cows and he would bring them. Of course, our Herefords were easy. They would run from the backside of the pasture if you honked or rattled a feed bucket, but Gumby felt an accomplishment by bringing them to the barn. My mare had a filly (named Pokey to go along with Gumby) who was a wonderful playmate. Gumby would stop running just long enough to go jump in the water trough to cool off, then back to his "job". His heart rate was below 40 and his thighs were bigger around than his waist. He was an athlete.
He & I practiced in Indiana for a while, and then moved to Las Vegas for about a year. At that time he was not neutered and he figured that out. One day someone came to our hospital and said he found my dog at a post office. Gumby had traveled across one of the top 5 busiest intersections in Vegas that day. The man that brought him in said that he told him to get in his car and he did, but he didn’t know what to tell him to get him out. I got him out and that night we stayed after work and he was no longer, not neutered! I wasn’t sure how he had gotten out, but later found out that he would jump on the wall at the back of my yard and tightrope around, sometimes hopping over into the neighbor dog’s yard to play. I took the picture below, the day I caught him in the act.
After moving back home to Dyersburg, I became known more as Gumby’s owner than Dr. White. I was used to that, since I grew up being Nancy, Marion & Sally’s brother or PH & Polly’s son. He would go with me to different classrooms or scout camps to show off his skills. If I couldn’t make it, someone else could take him and he would do whatever they said. After these outings, the kids would crowd around him, and he was always willing (maybe not so eager) to allow them to pet and pet and pull and rub and pet all over him. He later taught Sydney to do the same thing.
He didn't like Sydney when she first arrived on the scene. His life was pretty good and he didn't see the need to have some cute little blonde Golden Retriever hanging around. He SAID that she fell out of the convertible that day, but I'm not so sure he didn't push her. As usually happens, they became inseparable....into the SUV every morning to work, somewhere at noon, then back home after work. As many dogs do, they knew what time everything was going to happen.
I was getting ready for a seminar in Knoxville and was petting on Gumby when I felt a swelling in his abdomen. He hadn't been sick, no weight loss, normal appetite, not painful, I was leaving later that day, I was imagining things, Gumby can't have a problem, he was only 10, it wouldn't be there when I got back; I was going to will it away. Those few days of separation were tough. Of course when I got home, it was still there. I went in surgically to explore. I can’t imagine putting anyone else in the position of doing surgery on Gumby, and I had never seen my hand shake like that. I found a 4 inch mass on his spleen that I knew was cancerous and there was little doubt that it had already seeded to other places in his abdomen. I removed the spleen and would hope for the best. The pathology report said it was a poorly-differentiated Hemangiosarcoma………. A bad diagnosis. I did a lot of researching, thinking, praying, hugging….oh yeah, I bought him a truck. He always wanted a truck.
He went down fairly rapidly, but he did enjoy his rides. After he was gone, I took his body to the farm and buried him where the cows would walk near him every day. Gumby loved the farm.
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