Israfel Pellam

Born: March 15, 1995

Died: Feburary 14, 2005

     THE LIFE AND TIMES OF ISRAFEL PELLAM

Some of you know me as Israfel of Fort Neck, but my friends and those who love me (of which there are legions) just call me “Izzy.” I am a big, black, spoiled German Shepherd with issues.

My family adopted me from a vet who breeds German Shepherds. Because I was bred by a vet they assumed I would be a spectacular dog, not only in appearance, and health, but in temperament. Well, were they wrong! I may be cute but early on everyone realized I was obsessive-compulsive as well as displaying classic ADHD behavior (is that an established and accepted manifestation in the canine world?) I tend to get uncontrollably excitable and chase my tail whenever strangers enter my home….but sometimes I just bite the new people, hoping they will go away and leave me in peace with my mom and milk bones.

Then my human parents gave me this stupid name, (it’s from an Edgar Alan Poe poem, which really impresses people, but they still can never remember, much less pronounce, my name properly), Israfel. My current handle is Izzy because no one can remember the real name… it’s not a very dignified name for my handsome appearance, but since I scare most people away, it really doesn’t matter.

I like to chase cars, snarl, and bark at people. It’s my recreation. I pretend I am protecting my property but I really want to scare the hell out of ‘em. It’s all about power, baby.

After I was a few years old my Mom started taking me to the doggie eye doctor. I had white stuff in my eyes. No, it wasn’t eye strain, and they didn’t make me read eye-charts, but they did resolve that I have Pannis, something to do with an overactive immune system so I need to get eye-drops daily. I hate this procedure and try to avoid the eye-dropper whenever my mom comes after me with it.

The only thing I really like to do is lay around the house. When I was a pup and had the “chewies” my dad would stick me on the bed with Mom every time he got up to go out on a road call or leave the house. I was afraid to jump off the bed back then so I stayed there and snuggled with Mom. Dad figured it kept me from chewing on the furniture and being my usual obnoxious self when unattended. Early-on I realized this was a good thing, so now every time the old man gets out of bed I jump up there and snuggle with Mom. They think it’s cute. It’s more than cute, it’s a lot more comfortable than lying around on the floor!

Last year I was diagnosed with doggie MS. They call it Degenerative Myleopathy in canines. My rear-end is getting weak, but Mom adds a lot of drugs to my food three times everyday to slow its progression and she picks me up when I fall down. So now I’m a druggie plus she STILL makes me go to Groomingdale’s to be groomed and subjects me to routine vet appointments as well as dumping me at the kennel when she takes off on vacation with Dad.. (why can’t I go, too?)..but she loves me. And she lets me spend time with her on the bed. I guess I have become a wimp, but I sure do have a cush life.

Last week I jumped in the pool and went swimming with Dad. He was pretty surprised, but I held my own and swam a few laps free-style. There’s nothing like a nice, cool dip on a hot summer’s evening.

Strangely enough, when I go outside I always have to be on a leash. It must be for the benefit of other people because I sure as heck am not going to run-away from this home, I’ve got it far too good!

That pretty well sums up my life. The only other thing I didn’t mention is that I love to go for rides. My primary objective is smearing nose prints all over the windows of Mom’s car and barking at unsuspecting shoppers when they walk by the car in parking lots. It scares the bejesus out of them.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my autobiography. It’s a rich life for a dog.

Jean Pellam