by Nanci Arvizu

Created on: October 21, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

We had all just moved in together when my soon to be step son announced that he wanted a dog. Not just any kind of dog, he wanted a German Sheppard.

The problem was that we had just moved into a condo that didn't allow pets. Bobby felt that he could keep the dog at his mom's house, something both his father I knew not to be true.

I am the animal lover of the bunch. My husband grew up in a large family, so there was no room for pets, not to mention the fact that both of his parents were afraid of dogs any and all breeds. But that's another story.

Growing up with my family however, we always had dogs, usually several at a time of different breeds. My father liked to hunt, so he had a German Shorthair for hunting. We lived out in a rural area and needed a guard dog, so we had a Rottweiler. My mother liked little dogs, so we had a series of poodles and cocker spaniels.

Somehow Bobby talked his mother into allowing him to keep a dog at her house, so we started our search. I wasn't exactly thrilled with this idea, since I knew Bobby to be kind of lazy and I worried about how much time he would actually spend with the dog.

We bought the puppy from a breeder. He had good blood lines and both of his parents were friendly and beautiful. Butch was completely black, and as a puppy looked more like a bear cub than a dog. As he grew larger, the dog features took over and he grew into a beautiful dog.

The problem was that Bobby's mom did not want the dog in her house, so he spent that majority of his time in the back yard, doing what puppies do destroy anything and everything. This gave his mom many opportunities to complain and make demands for money for repairs. And because Bobby did exactly as I thought he would leave the dog alone in the back for days at a time there was no training happening.

After two years in the condo, we finally moved in a house where we could take the dog. I was 4 months pregnant when we made the move, and the first thing I wanted moved there was Butch.

Butch was now two, and completely wild. He would become aggressive at anything that moved to fast or frightened him. We had him neutered thinking this would help, but it didn't. I think it just made him angrier.

I spent hours with the dog, every day, talking to him, petting him, and very, very gently, disciplining him. One day I had a worker in the house repairing some wiring, and I had to chain Butch up in the backyard. After the worker left I went to unchain him and he attacked me. Luckily I was able to

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