a true story about Furrari’s Country Buck
This is the true story of Furrari’s Country Buck. I asked Cynthia and Cliff and Andrew Phillips if I might have it for my site, as I am So Very Proud of this boy. Buck was born as the runt baby of a litter of 9 puppies. Because he was only half the size of the rest of the puppies, I helped him along any time I saw he was without a teat, I would plug him in. I called him “Mouse”
His family chose him right from the beginning, small or not, he was theirs. Buck turned into a very striking male, large and formidable, with warm liquid brown eyes and big grin on his huge face. Always friendly and playful, the family often asked me when he would grow up and mature.
This story is the day he did……
My son Andrew had just gotten out of school on a cool blustery day in late October. He walked along the sidewalk, with his baseball hat askew on his head, his backpack dangling from one shoulder He rustled his shoes enthusiastically through the dry leaves, as kids often do in the dreary days of late fall, all the while daydreaming about scoring the winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals in the year 2010.
When he arrived home he looked to the top of the driveway and noticed that the wooden gate going to the backyard was open, swinging and creaking in the wind. He found this unusual, as this gate was always kept locked so that the two White Shepherds we owned could not escape and wreak havoc on the neighbourhood cats. “Well”, he thought, “I guess I’d better close it before I go in and let the dogs out”. So he boosted himself up on the blue box and replaced the latch securely.
He ran up the steps and opened the front door to the joyful barking of his two White Shepherds, Buck and Sugar. However, today, they seemed a little different. He was not sure how they were different, but something seemed not quite right. Instead of jumping up and licking his face, as was Buck’s customary greeting, the big dog kept running back and forth to the hallway leading to the bedroom. Sugar, the puppy, followed, just as she always imitated everything Buck did. Andrew figured that maybe they had to go potty, so he’d better hurry to the bedroom and get the French door open so that they could go out. When he tried to go into the bedroom, however, Buck put his body across the doorway, blocking Andrew’s path into the room. “Move out of the way you silly goof” Andrew said, and tried to push him aside. But Buck wouldn’t budge; he had planted himself securely in front of the bedroom door. Andrew did a quick head-fake, just like the hockey players he’d seen on TV, and maneuvered his way past Buck. “Ha Ha” he said and laughed. He ran to the door, and stopped dead. He peered through the glass, all signs of the impish grin gone from his youthful face. There was someone in the shed at the back of the garden. He looked closely and saw a man bending down, rummaging through his dad’s toolbox. The man was dressed all in black with a ski mask covering his entire head. Suddenly he stood up and looked straight at Andrew. Andrew opened the door and yelled “you’d better get outta here! Get out of my backyard!!” The man slowly and methodically began to walk towards the French door, all the while never taking his eyes from Andrew. Buck had jumped on the bed and was staring the man down. His ruff was up, as was his tail, his powerful legs poised and at the ready. The man walked to the bottom of the steps, still staring at Andrew with his piercing blue eyes. By this time, Andrew was starting to get scared. He said to the man “you’d better get outta here or I’ll let my dogs out”, but this time his voice quivered, all his bravado was gone. The man sneered and growled, “shut up, punk”, as he put one foot on the bottom step. Suddenly Andrew opened the door; Buck took the signal and sprung into action. There was a flurry of white fur as Buck bounded towards the intruder, his huge jaws gaping, showing two rows of deadly gleaming teeth. He was gaining ground fast as the man turned and tried to escape. Buck barked ferociously, his head bobbing up and down with each guttural cry. The man made one final desperate leap as he headed towards locked fence. In a split second he was up on the garbage box. Buck jumped into the air, saliva flying from his jaws. They snapped closed with a sickening sound, just as the man’s leg disappeared over the fence. Andrew came running down the steps, fear pulsing through every vein of his body, but he HAD to make sure Buck was okay. Buck stood stoically by the fence, his head held high. He paced back and forth along the gate, hoping against hope that the intruder was going to come back for one more try. Andrew held the white dog’s big head in his arms and hugged him and kissed his muzzle. Then he felt something against his leg. He looked down, and there was Sugar, smiling her happy puppy smile and wagging her tail as if to say, “pet me, pet me, I’m a good girl too!” Andrew laughed and gave Sugar a big hug and said, “You’re a brave dog too”.
Cliff and I drove frantically home, after Andrew had called us and told us what had happened. Cliff called the police from his cell phone, and they arrived just after we had gotten there. Andrew told his story to the policeman, who wrote it all down in a note pad, and he reminded Andrew that if anything like this ever happens again, he should call 911 immediately, and stay in the house. Then the policeman turned to Buck and smiled. He gave him a big pat on the head and said “Good Boy!”.