The Kerry as Guardian Angel

by Lisa Frankland From the April 1996 issue of Kerry Klips

Anybody who knows Kerries will tell you these are tough, smart terriers. A lot of people unfamiliar with the breed seem to be under the impression that the elegant, show-ring look is a sure sign of a soft, spoiled breed. Not so! Kerries were developed as a working farm dog in Ireland over a century ago; they were expected to be able to herd, guard, fight, retrieve game, and exterminate vermin, all as part of a day's work. In fact, until the 1960s, a Kerry could not earn it's Irish Championship until first proving its' mettle in field trials where it had to fight both a badger and rats! This versatile heritage is still apparent in Kerries today-many representatives of the breed have been successful at obedience, herding, agility, search and rescue, tracking, and flyball. Their strong protective streak makes them an excellent watchdog and a natural with children. For the same reasons, however, they may also have difficulty getting along with small animals and sometimes even other dogs, but true Kerry aficionados are willing to take the bad with the good. For how many other breeds can honestly be called, "a Jack of all canine trades, and a master of most!"

Back when my Kerry, Lav, was a puppy and I was expecting my first child, my husband, Aaron, and I lived in an apartment complex, with mostly nice people, but a few very strange neighbors. One of those neighbors was a downright weird man. Both he and his wife were deaf, as was one of their boys, but that's not what made them strange. It was the fact that they used it as an excuse to panhandle cigarettes and pocket change off their neighbors, and to ask all of us to make phone calls on their behalf at all hours of the day and night that made them annoying.

One evening, early on in my pregnancy when Aaron was working late, the man stopped by our apartment with a note asking me to make a phone call to his brother at work. His brother wasn't there, and in the process of writing messages back and forth trying to explain this (I don't know sign language, and his grammar and syntax was at about the first-grade level), the jerk propositioned me. Luckily, he was standing in the doorway at the time, and I was able to tell him in no uncertain terms that I was not interested, by slamming the door in his face. When he stopped by on his regular panhandling rounds a few days later trying to get money for cigarettes, my husband gave him the same message. This seemed to stop the relationship from progressing to the flowers and candy stage.

A few months later I had a friend over on an evening when Aaron was once again working late. Lav was about eight months old at the time and still very much a puppy. Normally, as it got dark outside, I would draw the curtains, but on this particular evening I forgot. About quarter to ten, Lav started to get restless and give little woofs saying, "There's something out there" under his breath. Stupid me figured he just wanted his walk and told him to shut up. At ten o'clock, my friend announced she had to leave, and I offered to walk her to the parking lot since I had to potty Lav before bed anyway. Now, since I was quite pregnant by then and we lived on the second story, I had trained Lav to wait for me at the top of the stairs and walk down the stairs at my side. On this evening he flew down the stairs with a bark and darn near dragged me off my feet. I pulled him back and scolded him, and that's when my friend and I noticed my strange neighbor standing off the sidewalk on a high spot on the lawn where he could see through my living room window. Judging from the cigarette butts littering the spot, he had been there for a while. I grabbed my friend by the elbow and we started to walk towards the parking lot. The weirdo dropped his last cigarette in the grass and started to follow us (his apartment was in the opposite direction).

At this point, Lav went beserk. He had always been a typically friendly and outgoing little puppy with everybody, but he was lunging at this man, standing on his hind legs on the end of his leash, leaping into the air, straining to get at him, and snarling. There is no doubt in my mind that Lav would have gone straight for the jugular if he had been off lead. Thankfully, the weirdo was not so dense that he would ignore a dog in defense drive (even a thirty-pound puppy who resembled a Poodle with pasted ears and a bad haircut!), and turned and walked away. My friend waited in her car until I got safely back to my apartment, from which I immediately called my husband and told him to get home NOW!

We moved into a house several miles away shortly after this incident, and I never saw the man again, though his wife came to my door once when she was apparently canvassing the neighborhood for donations. She got the same reply in "sign language" her husband got when he propositioned me.

Lav is now six years old, and is still a gentle, sensitive Kerry who loves everyone. But I have no doubt that he would lay down his life for me if he had to. Personally, I feel safer with a Kerry Blue Terrier than I would with a loaded gun. (Plus, good dogs don't go off by accident and can't be used against you!)

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