What a flame of energy he was. Man, that dog could make a mess in a hurry.
He was curious and strong willed. He was loyal and loving.
He played dirty from time to time. I remember one time he was headed out to his kennel in Tucson and Tommy was running him back and forth, one of his favorite games. Brock dipped his nose behind Tommy, between the legs and up went the nose. Brief Tommy headed up, but mostly he went down - hard. Poor Tommy. But Brock was just doing what he was asked to do - play. He was such a pleaser.
He made the move from Tucson in the back of our Jeep G. Cherokee quite well - with a little help from medicine. Such a trooper in the one month long stint in temporary housing. Then he got his own yard - not much of one (I think he held that against Tam - daily). But he was free at last.
Shortly after moving in I greet the SPCA at the door. One of our neighbors thought it better to complain that Brock didn't have a proper dog house instead of coming to us directly - that's the greeting you get in the modern day neighborhood these days. Brock got his doghouse that weekend and a bit later a hole in our garage - an entire third car port just for him. He was, afterall, much more loved that that neighbor ever gave us credit for.
I admit that I didn't get him out as much as he deserved. But he was the talk of the dog park. Everyone knew him, if not by name, then certainly by sight. He was tall and handsome. He never could put much meat on himself, no matter how expensive the food or how extensive the exercise. He was just petite in bone and massive in profile. ...And wonderful in spirit. Never struck another dog or was ill tempered. There were plenty of times those little bastard rat dogs, poorly trained by their neglectful owners, would strike out at Brock. But he never returned so much as a growl. 'Not interested... I'll make friends else where...' Truth was though, he was more charismatic with humans than he was other dogs. Those other dogs just couldn't make sense of his size. But people love him for certain.
After a year in CO, we decided he needed another friend. We looked into the Rocky Mountain Great Dane Rescue and found the perfect companion: Bizzy. She was on-guard at first. But it didn't take long for Brock to convincer her that she had a good home. Then it was all about her tormenting him. She would spin circles around him in the yard. He, being the older and wiser, decided it would be best if he remained on the porch and cheered her on as she did lap after lap.
It would seem he, one day, would ignore even his own advice. The winter of 2005 was rough. Ice on a Dane's feet is brutal. Too brutal for Brock. A deep cut inside his paw, mixed with antibiotics and an ultra-sensitive stomach was too much for him. Stomach torsion unseen and half an hour later he's gone.
I admit that you were a pain in our behinds. You were high maintenance and often bothersome, given your neurotic personality. But you were a loving and beautiful spirit.
My Friend... We miss you, Brock...
Sincerely,
-ty
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