My Most Unforgettable Character

By Edgar Tunison

In order to really enjoy a dog, one doesn’t merely try to train him to be semihuman. The point of it is to open oneself to the possibility of becoming partly a dog.

Edward Hoagland

Top had been given to us as a pup by Tom Propst, a neighboring rancher, when we were living on our homesteads in the sand hills south of Sterling, Colorado. It was in the early 1920's.  We were rather dubious at first in accepting another mouth to feed, since times were very hard and we were having difficulty feeding the livestock and ourselves, let alone some ravenous pup.  Besides, of all things, Top was an irish setter.  Whoever heard of a hunting dog being useful on a cattle ranch?  However, Dad liked to hunt and he saw in this gangly pup a companion for his hunting trips, if nothing else.

Top was a tall awkward pup, dark sorrel-red in color, and he possessed a large plumy tail that was always wagging. His soft brown eyes were forever pleading for attention and affection and his mouth seemed to be fixed into a constant smile.  It wasn’t long before Top had waggled his tail and smiled his way into all our lives.

Dad being the first to notice the possibilities in this pup, soon had Top in tow and was teaching him the fundamentals of a good hunting dog.  Top was eager to learn and soon became a great spotter.  He could smell a prairie chicken or a pheasant three hundred yards away and would stand there transfixed till Dad arrived and gave him the command to flush him up.  Top would retrieve the game for Dad and receive a petting for a job well done.  From then on while Top was with us, Dad kept our three families in fresh game.

Top quickly grew into a full-grown beautiful dog.  His big brown eyes still searching for attention and affection, always smiling, he made a very pleasant companion.

Top started going with me after the milk cows.  I would saddle up a horse and we would head out into the north pasture. Top would be dashing about, barking now and then to let the cows know he was there and they had better get going. I soon learned that I could point my finger and swing it into and arc and say, "Bring 'em in Top!" and Top would circle the cattle and start them on their way to the corral.  I went less and less into the pasture and Top would go farther and farther.  Finally all I had to do was go out to the north gate and say, "Go get 'em Top!" and Top would be off to get the cows all by himself.

I will always remember the first day I let Top go with me to the field as it was a day Top's salesmanship just about reached its peak. The field of corn I was cultivating was on the Young's Place, about two miles from home. I would take hay grain and water for my horses and a lunch for myself. I fed and watered the horses and sat down in the shade of the wagon to eat my lunch.  Top sat down directly in front of me, his big brown eyes taking on that innocent pleading look.  He cocked his head to one side and then the other. He licked his lips and tossed his head up and down in an almost pleading bark.  I could resist no longer. So I tossed him a sandwich which he swallowed in one giant gulp. The sandwich only seemed to wet his appetite and he continued his silent pleading.  Who could resist those big brown eyes?  Before I knew it, all my sandwiches were gone down the throat of that hungry dog.  I never forgot to take a lunch for Top after that.  He'd become a salesman, 'Par Excellence' and I could not resist him even if it meant I would go hungry the rest of the afternoon.

Top’s curiosity knew no end. Twice to my knowledge it was almost his undoing.  Once when we were coming from the Young's Place, I noticed Top investigating a sagebrush for the usual kangaroo rat or rabbit. Much to my horror, he had found a rattlesnake!  Top sniffed and jumped back as the rattler coiled, rattled, and struck. I jumped out of the wagon and yelled at Top to get back, just as the snake struck. He hit Top just back of the nose and side of the cheek. Top gave a little yelp and seemed to go stark raving mad. He grabbed the snake in his jaws and shook him like he would have shaken a rabbit. I had great difficulty getting the snake away from Top to kill it myself.

Top was already beginning to get sick, his nose and jaw had started to swell. For the life of me I did not know what to do. I knew that for humans, the thing to do was cut a gash into the wound and suck out all the blood and poison possible. No way in heck was Top going to let me do that. I went on down to the barn and unhitched the horses. Top came drooping in, his head held low and his tail between his legs. His face was so swollen that he could hardly see and his coat already had that mangy look of a sick animal.

I made Top as comfortable as I could in the shade of a tree, placed food and water near him but he had no appetite for either.  He had such a sad, pathetic look on his face that I thought for sure he was a goner.  I told the rest of the family what had happened to Top and they were as concerned as I.

The next morning I was up early to see how our dog was coming.  To my surprise, he got up and tried to wag his tail and he drank a little water.  I commenced to have hopes that he would recover.  The next few days it was touch and go but Top, the unconquerable Top, made the grade.  His head came up as the swelling went down, his tail started wagging, his shiny, lustrous coat returned.  We all heaved a sigh of relief as we saw that this marvelous dog, this character of the animal world had been spared.  It was the answer to our prayer, “God save our dog”.

You would think that by this experience Top would have learned to leave snakes alone.  On the contrary, he seemed to have developed within himself a deep and abiding hatred for all snakes- rattlesnakes in particular.  He killed them all on sight.  He would be traveling about in his happy-go-lucky way but the moment he spotted a snake, he became a veritable demon until that snake lay there at his feet all mangled and dead.  To myself, I nicknamed him, “The Happy Warrior”.  Twice, to my knowledge, he was again bitten by rattlesnakes.  He never was as sick as he had been that first time.  Perhaps, like for diseases, his body had built up a resistance.  Anyway, Top was undaunted and he went on with his own private war on snakes.

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