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Duffy

My brother, his wife and I operated a golf range alongside a moderately busy state highway. One day a dog appeared and refused to go away. I’m now ashamed to admit that we tried to disuade him from staying. Fortunately, he refused to go away and eventually we fed and watered the guy.

He simply would not eat while anyone was in view, so we moved the bowl to a private location where he replenished in peace. He was extremely cautious and let no one near him.

No one responded to ads in the paper or pet stores.

After some time he realized we had no intent to harm him and he never left the property, although he freely roamed within the confines and the boundaries which he somehow instinctively recognized.

Soon, a golfer arrived with a child in tow and we were astonished to see the dog, a Shelty, race toward the child in a decidedly friendly manner. He and the little girl played while the dad practiced. As any adukt approached, he fled

Eventually, as you have by now deduced, he became a fixture on our range. His fear of adults gradually dissolved over the months, except for the occasional male who must have reminded him of some past unpleasantness.

I named him ‘Duffer’ even though he never even attempted to hit a ball. He had no interest in rounding them up either (dang it!).

So, ‘Duffy,’ as we called him was loved by every child not afraid of dogs and allowed many a parent to practice at peace while he entertained the kids. It was great not having to babysit them ourselves, as well.

We sold the range a couple of years ago and my (big) brother absconded with Duffy and moved to another state. It’s a 350 mile drive (one way) to see him, but it’s worth it every time. Don’t tell my brother that’s why I show up, okay?

Martin from TX