My dad didn't play catch or kick a ball around with me. He did, on occasion, but it was the exception not the rule. I remember watching him work. There were always chores to be done at our place, it was a farm without crops. I spent those days with Duchess running laps around the house, testing the limits of my father's invisible perimeter. We'd go farther each time until we'd here him call us and we'd sprint back to his side.

Duchess and I played a lot of hide and seek. My father would command her to stay at his side while I ran and hid. I'd glance back at them as I turned the corner of the house and see her sitting anxiously at his side. Tucked away in my hiding spot I would yell out to my father "ok, ready" and he would release Duchess with a "ok girl, go find him".

Dogs have a distinct advantage in the game of hide and seek. There wasn't really much seeking required on her part. I'd cram myself into a window-well trying not to even breath. Within seconds of giving the ready signal I would hear my breathing get heavier, sloppier. I'd quickly realize it wasn't my breathing at all and look up to see Duchess peering down at me with that "why are you down there?" look.

I grew up with Duchess. She's that smile on my face when I see a dog. It was in her eyes. She was simple. We were straight forward and honest in our friendship. We looked at each other, not through. We wanted the same things. We wanted to explore. We were thirsty for new adventures and we wouldn't find them on our front lawn. We needed to venture, to test our limits. We also needed to sleep and eat so we never planned on straying too far.

Duchess shared my childhood sense of exploration, that yearning to hop the fence and see what's on the other side. We were both learning how to read and interpret my father, figuring out which buttons we could press on a particular day. When I stood on the edge of a tough decision, Duchess was always there to push me to the adventurous side. I'd glance down at her and know by her eyes that she had confidence in us both. She knew we'd succeed and get away with it. She was my confidence, always there to talk when talking to people wasn't an option. She put up with my ramblings and no one knew me the way she did.

I feel it in my chest and stomach even now as I write this down 20 years later. It wasn't a frequent thing but Duchess was a real dog. German Shepherd's are loyal and territorial. Their instincts are to protect the people they love. They act and are not a contemplative species.

Duchess took care of me and my family. Sometimes she'd make quick judgment calls and up the ante. She had control and never hurt anyone, however, if she decided you and your flyers had crossed her fine line then she'd make you think again about cutting across our property line. You'd hear her at the last second but she'd be in a full sprint by that point. She'd corner around the house, preparing to fake a full attack, bringing with her the warning sounds of tearing grass and earth.

As you turn to look you recognize that distinctive jingling dog collars make when shaken hard. The kind of shaking a dog's neck exerts on a collar when running at full speed. This isn't the cute plaid cloth collar you put on those miniature whatchamacallits. It's the larger steel variety. The one an owner upgrades to when their oversized puppy begins breaking the cheap ones.

You'd love to turn and see a cute foot high puffy white poodle come yapping up to your knees but a dog needs significant mass and speed to tear up earth like that. You think back to that decision you made. It's seems so long ago, out of reach now. Maybe walking down the driveway to the sidewalk, along the sidewalk to the next driveway, up that driveway and quietly depositing your next flyer into the white metal mailbox with a small chink sound wouldn't take that much more time?

By now you've completed your turn to face the approaching monster. It doesn't seem so far fetched to loose control of your bladder out of fear. Duchess has decided you need a stronger lesson than her usual stand and bark routine. She's decided to teach you why the city went to the expense of building sidewalks. As you raise your forearm to defend your face, an instinct we have from some distant past when animals attacked us far more frequently, Duchess's front paws are in the air. Launching the full weight of her body at you her mouth opens to bare her teeth. She latches onto your raised forearm with a gentleness that's shocking in contrast to her exposed aggression. While you can't bring that thought forward in your adrenaline soaked head, deep down you know she's in complete control. She has no intention of harming you. This is only a display, a lesson, a front row seat demonstration of what she could do if her ancient aggression got the best of her. I imagine Duchess loved these moments. This was her true nature, doing what she's meant to be doing.

My father didn't quite see things mine, or Duchess's way. When she put on one of her full dress rehearsal security displays there was a falling out of sorts. I'm not sure my father ever hit Duchess, the truth lies in the back of my closet somewhere, covered with the happier times. I balled my eyes out whenever Duchess was disciplined. It would have hurt less if he had been teaching me who the real boss was. It was hard for me to grasp at my young age. Duchess didn't deserve it, I did.

It's strange to think that my father could be disciplining me through Duchess. Duchess was my bad deeds, my rebellious side. When my dad came down on her he was coming down on me as well. He knew it as well as I do now. Maybe he didn't realize it? If I was ever scared of my father, it wasn't from being aggressive towards me. It was the display he put on for Duchess. Duchess had crossed his fine line and needed to be taught a lesson. He didn't intend to hurt her. He was acting on instinct and knew how to bare his teeth without breaking the skin. Duchess knew now she'd done something wrong but her instincts always got the best of her in the moment. In the same way that flyer carrier had crossed Duchess's line, Duchess had crossed my fathers and now my father was crossing mine.