Thomas Walter - The reincarnation of Molly, the German Shepherd

I myself drove to work for the night shift at 9:00 pm on a weekly basis and Manuela and Jasmin stayed in the house alone overnight. Sometimes it was a driver who ran out of gas, or a local villager who was used to grabbing a few bottles of beer on his way home. It didn't really matter who disturbed the nighttime peace. Everyone still thought that Marion the gas station operator still lived here and that he would still want to do some business after closing time. To our dismay these incidents began to occur more and more often and usually while I was away working the night shift. So Manuela and I thought about how she could get more respect from nighttime disturbers, who were making her and our little daughter anxious. It was also difficult to get these night owls to leave the doorstep. Most nighttime disturbers simply weren't interested in the fact that we simply lived here and that we weren't the owners of the gas station. They even shouted up to our bedroom windows and sometimes knocked at the old front door for long period of time, which would echo up to our apartment. Most of them ignored the big, explanatory sign I had put up on the outside of the front door (that we, the Walter family, are just renters and have nothing to do with the gas station). I came home one morning after the night shift and Manuela once again told me about one of the disturbers who had basically behaved in a very intrusive manner. The only way it was possible to get him to leave the doorstep was to say that the police were already on their way. That was why I finally decided to get a guard dog and train it to bark loudly and growl viciously at anyone who rang the doorbell or knocked. I knew it had to be a big dog with a deep voice in order to command the respect of someone on the other side of the door - and to instill a bit of fear in them. I explained to Manuela that the growling and snarling of the dog would make the disturbers' hair stand on end and the thought of the guard dog managing to open the door by itself would make them sweat with fear. I myself remembered the Karl Siegel butcher shop from the days of my butcher's apprenticeship back in 1980. I experienced a few frightening moments there as a teenager. For one thing, I new my boss Karl's guard dogs quite well, their names were Branko and Max. However, when these two large animals roamed the property freely and jumped up snarling at the big, iron gate when I came to work at 6:30 in the morning, my first thought was that I would not want to meet these two German Shepherds in the dark if I was a stranger. Branko and Max were primarily fed beef rumen, raw meat and bones. Once I observed how Branko, a big black male dog, simply bit through the thick femur bone of a pig as if it was made of pretzel dough. I felt very queasy when I saw this and heard the loud snapping of the bone as it shattered in his strong jaws.

At the time, all the guard dogs owned by business people in the village were trained to attack people. Back then, guard dogs knew no pain or fear; they were ready to sacrifice themselves and die in order to protect their properties. Today, all medium-sized and large companies have surveillance cameras to protect their goods. I still think that in the event of a power outage only a good guard dog is capable of still doing its job and doing it well. This can still be seen today in most high-security areas, where the combination of electronics and dogs is still used. Nonetheless, we had no other choice. A good dog would help us keep nighttime disturbers away and it would be a faithful protector of the family.

As I mentioned before, I was familiar with the advantages of the German Shepherd as a guard dog and family pet. My favorite uncle, Horst, played a key role in this because he bred German Shepherds just a few kilometers away from my home town. They were used for service training and to maintain the German Shepherd breed.

Horst gave me a puppy back when I was doing my butcher apprenticeship and also took me to the dog training area. When I was thirteen years old I I learned how to train German Shepherds to be guard dogs and assistance dogs at the dog training area in Hütschenhausen. I knew exactly which characteristics to look for in order to select the right dog. I was convinced that only a good German Shepherd would be worth considering to do the task of a guard dog. I also knew about the various ways these faithful dogs could be utilized from the media. Together with friends and relatives we started a motivated search in newspapers for a potential, young German Shepherd that would be suitable for our family. Only a few days went by and I got a call from my sister-in-law Martina. It was a hot summer day and Jasmin was splashing in her pool on the big lawn behind the house, where Marion used to play in the sandbox when he was a little boy.

I sat under the white gazebo in the shade, reading a police report in the Rheinpfalz newspaper, when Martina called and told me about an American woman who was giving away a six month old German Shepherd because she couldn't control it anymore. It simply had too much energy and spirit, and was eating up her budget. Martina worked at the library at the air base where she had met the American woman looking for books about how to train German Shepherds. I immediately called my close acquaintance Kurt, an American who worked at the air base, and I asked him to register me at the base so that I could take a look at the young German Shepherd. I got a bit of information from the dog's owner: she told me on the phone that it was a rather large and dominant female dog. She also said that every attempt that she had made to train the dog had been unsuccessful. I smiled to myself while on the phone with her and told her I would come by that very same day. That evening we drove with Kurt to visit the American woman and take a look at the puppy. I can still remember how Manuela's hands became wet with fear when she rang the doorbell - even as a young puppy this dog had the deep bark that I wanted our family's dog to have. We spent some time at Kelly's, this was the friendly woman’s name, so that I could get a good impression of the dog.

We sat on a large colorful sofa, with a high backrest, that I sank right into. While I was petting Molly's head, because she was leaning right in close to my legs, the doorbell rang twice. The first time it was the neighbor John, an older single soldier, who came to borrow two eggs, and the second time it was her thirteen year old tall son Benjamin who came to the door. What impressed me immediately was that young Molly jumped up and ran to the front door barking both times the doorbell rang. I immediately knew that although this young dog might be a bit spoiled, after a few months of intense training it would have the necessary courage to assert itself in its task. While her son Benjamin removed his black Nike running shoes, I watched Molly chew on the worn-out heels, which wasn't a behavior that a dog should engage in.

I also liked the playful instinct she showed when the vacuum was switched on, as she kept trying to attack the vacuum without any fear at all.

Manuela was still doubtful and a bit afraid. She had never had such a big German Shepherd and so it was difficult for her to imagine that I would be able to train Molly to stop misbehaving.

So we arranged a second meeting with Kelly at our house so we could see how Molly would behave outside of her familiar surroundings.