On television recently there was a program called “Dogs With Jobs”. This program was about working dogs, who anyone would be proud to own, because they help blind and/or handicapped people navigate through the world; drag people from burning buildings; or rescue lost kids, etc. Our favorite pet would never have been on that show, because he never did a lick of work in his entire life, much less helped anyone, unless of course you count the endless joy and love that he gave us.

His name was Satchmo, after the great jazz musician, but we just called him Sach, and his former owners gave him to Dad, because he would lean/sit (normal behavior of a St. Bernard) on people when he wanted people to scratch his back. When he sat on their youngest child, they felt it was time to let him go, and gave a full blooded – papered St. Bernard to Dad. It was amazing that Dad was the one who brought Sach home, because he never really was very animal or kid oriented, but I guess he figured we needed a new dog. Our Scotty dog, which we had cleverly named “Scotty” had just been killed by a car, and a big dog like a St. Bernard needed a big family like ours.

We lived in a very small town called New Boston, New Hampshire, where dogs were everywhere and part of most families. When Dad told us he was bringing home a St. Bernard, we researched this type of dog at the library and were quite excited about getting one. When Dad finally drove up with Sach one Saturday evening with his head sticking out the Fiat sunroof (because he could barely fit in the back seat) we thought it was the funniest thing, and immediately swarmed the car to get a closer look. In our research we had discovered that the St. Bernard is a working dog and we busily began making plans about how we could get him to do all sorts of wonderful things for us! We were looking forward to training him to carry kool-aid for us in his whiskey barrel, pull us in our wagon, or even give us rides on his back. Wrong! Boy, were we wrong! Like I said earlier, Sach never did a lick of work in his life and wasn’t about to start. We eventually did have great adventures with him though. He’d go with us to Kid's Pond to hunt frogs, or down to the river to explore, and into the woods as we played cowboys and Indians. All of us kids had great imaginations and Sach was always there with us.

When Sach first entered our house he saw our cat, Blackie, at the same time Blackie saw him. Almost instantly Sach charged, the cat ran, who then dashed straight up the dining room wall and over about three feet, and landed on the very top of the bookshelf. Eventually the two of them not only made peace with each other, but also became good buddies and would often share their food. 

Since Sach was such a big dog the neighbors were afraid of him at first, so we had to keep him chained up. He had the biggest doghouse you’ll ever see – he was attached to our three-story barn and his chain was about 20 feet long. He could go into the barn quite a distance and he always hid in there whenever a thunderstorm would start. This was lucky, because a huge old maple tree, which shaded his yard, was once struck by lightening and crashed down near where Sach usually sat. He was usually just tied up when no one was home, although once in a while he would escape. Most of the time he was either inside the house or running around town with us. Sach never did anything heroic, but one remarkable thing he did was walk away from being hit by a car. Once when he was a young guy, a Volkswagen Beetle hit him, at the time it appeared he wasn’t hurt from it, although the VW had a dent in the bumper. 

Like I said before Sach never learned to pull us in a wagon but he did know how to pull us around! In lieu of walking him on his chain, he would drag us around. I am not sure how many pairs of sneakers were ruined by us being dragged in them, but I am sure that first summer, Keds saw a boost in sales. His favorite game next to “drag the little kid around” was to grab onto your hand if it was in a mitten and walk you home. You weren’t allowed to stray, just go home. We first found out about his mitten trick, when one day he met our neighbor at her front door, took her mittened hand in his mouth, walked her to the store, and waited outside for her to shop. When she came out, he took her hand again, and walked her home, only releasing her when she got to the door. She let him do this because he was so new in the neighborhood that she wasn’t sure of his disposition. Luckily for everyone he turned out to be a big softy. Our neighbor called Mom right away and explained what happened. Mom, in her usual jovial way was not upset about it; in fact she let us go outside to test the process ourselves. Over the years we could never break him of this trick, and many a time we had to hold our mittened hands over our heads to keep him from grabbing them. This trick wouldn’t have been so bad if he had not been a “wet” mouth St. Bernard, another words, one that drooled in excess.

Sach liked everyone in town but one boy. We could never figure out why this was the only kid in the neighbor that Sach didn't like, even though the boy walked by Sach every weekday to and from school. He always tried to pet Sach but Sach wouldn't let him. Every time he walked by, Sach would go crazy barking at him. One day our Mom had had enough and asked the boy are you willing to try and make him your friend no matter what it takes? The boy said yes, but what do you mean. My Mom explained that she would hold Sach's collar while he tried to pet him and that every time Sach growl or snapped at him she would bop him. They did this for almost an hour, before Sach finally stopped growling and the boy and the dog became good friends.

Sach got along with most dogs, except three that lived in the neighborhood, an American Standard Poodle, a Cocker Spaniel, and an Irish Setter named Rusty. Until Sach came to live with us, the Rusty had been the top dog in town. These two dogs hated each other from the first time they met. Whenever Rusty came into town we tried to get Sach on his chain because if we didn't there would be a fight. Rusty and Sach got squirted with a hose many times. There was also a Great Dane that lived about two miles up the hill from us, and whenever he would escape from his chain he would wander into town. Well, let me tell you, Sach may not have been the smartest dog in the pack, but he wasn’t about to take on a Great Dane, so Sach decided right then and there it was best to be buddies, and they became a pack of two.  So whenever the Great Dane was around, Sach would always be with him.

The poodle and the spaniel lived right up the street from us - they knew that Sach was chained up so they didn't fear him at all. They would walk back and forth just out of his reach, teasing him all the time. One day when Sach was in his yard sleeping, unchained, the spaniel decided to tease him. Sach chased that dog all the way home and that dog never came near Sach again. The poodle lived right next door, he had all day to tease Sach and he did. He would sit in his own yard and bark at Sach or walk into our yard just close enough to drive Sach crazy. One day Sach broke his chain and wrecked havoc on the poodle, resulting in stitches for the poodle, and peace and quiet for Sach as the poodle never came near him again.

Our cat Blackie was also schooled at playing “Tease the Dog”, and would sit outside Sach’s reach and clean himself, and generally drive Sach nuts. Mom used to yell out the window and tell Blackie to get away, figuring that one day Blackie would slip up and Sach would get him like he had gotten the poodle. On the first Thanksgiving Day Sach was with us, Mom had one of the kids give Sach the scraps from the turkey. The pan was placed well inside Sach’s chain area. Mom says she looked out the window and saw Sach eating the turkey and saw Blackie walking up to the pan to get some for himself. Mom says that she had to look away because she just knew Sach would mangle that cat. When she didn’t hear a cat screaming, she looked back and there was Blackie, standing underneath Sach, and eating out of the same turkey pan. At the time we figured it was because the scraps weren’t in Sach’s regular pan so he allowed Blackie to join him. From that day forward they were great friends. I guess Sach appreciated Blackie’s bravado.

Sach wasn't neutered. Back then you didn't automatically neuter dogs especially, purebred ones. My best girlfriend had a small German Shepard mix named Lady who Sach fall in love with. Lady had been spayed so there wasn't any problem with puppies, however, whenever Lady came over to our house Sach would lead her to his dog food and let her eat it. When we would get him a big beef bone from the local grocery store Sach would take it over to her house as a present. They were very good friends and we really enjoyed watching them playing together all the time.

Lady's owner lived next door to a man that didn't like us and didn’t like dogs. He decided that we weren’t taking care of Sach properly, so he took our dog and gave him to a friend of his that owned a female St. Bernard. Since Sach loved to ride in cars, he had no problem getting him into the car. Luckily, our Mom worked with a man that lived in the same neighbor as the woman and when she went to work and told him that our dog had been stolen he told her that his neighbor down the street had just gotten a new full grown St. Bernard. Mom packed us kids in the car and we drove over to this man's house to check out this new dog. It was Sach all right! The woman told us she wanted to bred her dog with Sach so our Mom let her keep him for a couple of weeks. Sach and her dog never had a litter of puppies - apparently Sach didn't know what he was supposed to do. The woman owned a small business that sold grinders and small pizzas to stores around our area, to thank us for not calling the police, and letting her keep Sach for awhile, she would occasionally bring us some. A funny after note, a few years later a little cocker spaniel mix dog that lived near us had a litter of puppies and half of them were Sach’s.

Some St. Bernards have long hair, which can be quite hot in the summer. Sach used to fight the heat and a skin rash every summer, so usually the vet would shave the areas that were itching. One summer the vet suggested that Mom have Sach shaved completely, but a dog's head and the end of his tail are quite sensitive, so the vet left the hair around those areas. Sach ended up looking like a lion! Of course everyone laughed at him and he was quite embarrassed. Sach decided the best way to handle the embarrassment was to hide in the barn for most of the summer. When his hair grew back a bit he started staying out of the barn. Mom never had him shaved like that again.

After a few years, we moved to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Our new house had been built in the late 16^th century and was surrounded by maple trees. We had five acres of land to roam in and numerous barns to have adventures in. Mom was a great gardener; she had to be with seven kids to feed. Since we moved just as the tomatoes were starting to ripen, Mom decided to pick all of the tomatoes - red, green, and in-between! Our new house had a cold cellar and Mom knew that she could store the tomatoes in there until the green ones started to turn red.

Sach was not much of a hunting dog, but when he did hunt he had interesting results. Right after moving into our new house, Sach found a skunk, and the skunk found him back. Phew. One of the best ingredients for getting rid of skunk smell is the acid found in tomatoes, which luckily we had a lot of. Unfortunately, being the oldest, I was the one elected to give Sach a bath with them, which was a difficult task normally, and was especially tough using tomatoes. But at last we both ended up smelling like tomatoes instead of skunk. Another time he actually cornered a woodchuck under a pile of wood, which we could not get him to leave for any reason, not even to eat! Finally Dad had to drag him into the car for a ride and while they were gone we chased the woodchuck out of the woodpile and it ran away. Sach never did find the woodchuck again, but he strutted around the house for days afterwards, I guess he was proud of himself.

Our youngest sister and Sach were both afraid of thunderstorms, so one day Dad explained to her about thunder and lightening and how since our new house had lightening rods we were safe if the lightening struck the house. After she learned about the lightening rods she sat down next to Sach on the floor and explained them to him - I don't think he believed her because he was still scared of the thunder and lightening. Hey, after the maple tree, who wouldn’t be scared?

After seven years in Portsmouth, Dad was transferred to a job in Seattle, and Mom and the five youngest kids were still living at home in New Hampshire. Since Dad hadn’t been able to find affordable housing in Seattle, and the cost of living in NH with Dad gone was too high, Mom decided that she wanted to move to Mississippi, where things were cheaper, and Grandma lived. It was obvious that Sach couldn’t move to Mississippi because of the heat, and because he was in very poor health. This was because as the years went by, his VW injury and having dysphasia, made his back and legs constantly hurt, (he was having a hard time just sleeping on a heated bed mat) and had started going blind. Purebred St. Bernards are one of the unfortunate dogs that have a short life span because of dysphasia, which now is treated by medication, but in the early ’70’s was virtually untreatable. Jokingly Mom would always threaten to get rid of Sach since he was such a pain in the butt at times. He was like an eighth kid and she loved him as much as we did. However, after talking to the vet, Mom had to do what she had always threatened and have Sach put to sleep. I don’t remember her leaving to take Sach to the vet’s office; no one wanted to face it. And I am not positive, but I don’t think anyone went with Mom on her grim task. It was brave of her to face the doctor on her own, and no one ever acknowledged that bravery until now. It was definitely one of the hardest, yet ultimately kindest things she ever did for us, or Sach.