Harry G. Smith & Champ

A true story on Champ

It's said a picture replaces a thousand words but no photo could say what really what was at the time.  looking at the photo you see a happy dog and a goofy man in unmarked greens getting a dog to stand on his hind legs.

Champ was payment for favors done, in other words I called in a debt to bring him home with me.  He had the patience to step on a mine and stand there until i could disarm it.  The click made him freeze.

I could tell you a million stories about him but I'll tell you only one for now.  In Harrisburg,PA I owned a bar and a body shop within 100 yards of each other.  At the body shop we built bodies and at the bar we showed another type off, both made of silicone and plastic.

Champ lived there because I had two young children at home and my wife had no sense of humor.  During the day I had Champ in an electrified pen about 40'x40" and he also had a line he could run on when I went to the bar.  He never wanted to be away from me.  The line was about 100 yards long, one end attached to the wall of the body shop and the other end attached to an abandoned car parked on the bar lot.

Champ could run like hell until he got to the car and also being fed at the back door of the bar.  He could eat a pot of food and leave peas at the bottom, he did not like peas.

The cable he was attached to was 1/4" and should have held him but one day three undesirables came across the lot and started teasing him.  Champ started running and when he hit the stop at the end of the line, it broke.  He took a few bites out of all three, even climbing on the roof of the car after the other chicken shit.

The law was on my side because they were trespassing but I had to get him shots.  I exhausted the yellow pages in an attempt to get a veterinarian to give him his shots.  I finally found a vet in another town who had the balls to help me.  He came to the lot, lassoed champ, and pulled him through the fence lines and Champ got his shots.  After that the Vet was Champs champion and mine.  His name is Edward Mimnaugh of Union Deposit, PA and he still takes care of my dog, a human Black Lab who I hope lives until I die, then it is his turn.

Dr. Mimnaugh made many trips to the lot because unknown to me, Champ was on a downhill slide and he could no longer control himself, somewhat like those who went through Vietnam and thought they could come home sane.

Champ finally had mental problems brought on by a brain aneurysm and turned on me.  Grabbed my left arm and wouldn't let go.  At the time I was living in a town called Camp Hill and the closest vet was an ass.  He wanted to get Champ off my arm by "putting him to sleep", the stupid cops wanted to shoot him.  Told them all, screw you, and left him there holding on to me until he died.  Even then they had to pry his mouth from my arm.

I would take champ over a human any day.  He had respect and confidence in me.

~HGS

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