Once we were back in Welkom I missed Coxswain so much, that I started searching the newspapers for dog adverts. This went on for a while until I saw an advert for pedigree German Shepherd puppies. The breeder lived in Meyerton, a suburb of Johannesburg. It was not difficult to get Phyllis to go with me to have a look at the puppies.
After checking my credentials as being suitable to responsibly handle and manage this special breed, the breeder brought her latest 8-week-old puppies, one at a time into the lounge and then into groups of three so that we could narrow them down to two. We had to choose between two males, both very beautiful and it was an almost impossible task to choose only one.
As we sat discussing our decision, suddenly a slightly larger nine-week-old puppy entered the room carrying a feeding dish in his mouth. The breeder explained that he was left over from a previous litter and had not yet been taken. “Sold!” I said and after the paperwork and payment, we left with “Gambit” and drove all the way back to Welkom in the Orange Free State.
Relying on my experience with Killick and Bosun, I started training him on my own. Welkom still only had breed clubs at that time that did not interest me. However, I entered him for breed and he won a few competitions because he was so beautiful. He was a longer-haired dog than Killick and Coxswain, which made him extra pretty and Nikki’s favourite.
Gambit was so much part of the family that its was taken for granted and travelled with us on our regular three trips to Cape Town each year. He was a very obedient dog and a happy member of our family until he got lost!!!!
One evening, at supper time, Gambit was nowhere to be seen. I called and called till late, but he did not come home which was very unusual. Perhaps he met a girl and will be home when he gets hungry, I thought. The following morning, I started my search more seriously and called and walked the suburb whistling, asking the neighbours if they had seen our handsome boy. Noone had seen him, but all offered to keep an eye open. Another day went by and now I began to panic in earnest.
I visited the SPCA and various dog rescue kennels but to no avail. My next move was the Municipality to find out if he might have been run over and killed, but they had no report of a dog that had been killed. This gave me some hope that he could still be alive. Another day went by, but still no Gambit to be seen. The possibility existed that someone could have stolen him and were holding him captive somewhere.
While searching for my dog I heard stories that there were criminals who stole dogs, taking them off to remote farms, where they were re-trained in order to be deployed as security dogs. This was a great worry for me because German Shepherds would make the ideal candidates for such a theft.
My next move was to head out late in the evening to one of the hills surrounding the city and whistle for a while and then move to a new area, and again whistle. Sound travels far in the night when the city sleeps and I knew that if my dog was alive and being held captive in any of these areas he would recognise my whistle and try to escape.
Another few days went by, and I kept up my routine of whistling at night but by the end of the week I was becoming quite depressed. I told everyone I met about the disappearance of Gambit.
Meeting a friend the next day who was the owner and editor of a local newspaper, he suggested that if I sent him a nice photo of Gambit, he would put it on the front page of his paper that is distributed throughout the city.It was at least something worth trying.
The next day I took a photo of Gambit to a pharmacy and had a few copies made so that I could display them on “Lost” posters at different places in the city. As I left the shop the next day with the photos, I noticed two traffic wardens just outside the shop and instinctively asked if they had seen the dog in the poster on their travels around the city. One immediately said “No” but the other hesitated and then said “No.” This seemed suspicious to me, so I jumped on my motorbike and headed to the traffic department.
On entering the building I went to the first window, showed the picture of Gambit to the clerk, and asked if she had by any chance seen that dog. Her reply was that I should ask the Traffic Chief whose office was on the first floor of the building. That was a strange reply and not an answer I was expecting. Upon entering the Chief’s office, I showed him the picture and asked him if he had seen my dog. He studied it for a while and then asked who I was. I explained, but then he denied having seen the dog. Something was not adding up, and my suspicions were steadily growing.
As I left the building I stood outside for a while deciding on what to do. Then I remember seeing a mature lady in an office near the door to the traffic department and as I entered her office, I presented her with a picture of Gambit and she said, “Yes, he is in one of our patrol cars.” Then I asked her how I could find that patrol car. “Not to worry, I’ll page him in on my Walkie Talkie.”
I waited outside the entrance door and about 5-minutes later, a patrol car entered and I could see Gambit sitting on the back seat with his lead jammed into the back door. The driver went into the building to find out why he had been called in and during that time I immediately released my dog. What a re-union we had! Gambit was beside himself with excitement, as we hugged each other. My happiness in having my boy back replaced the anger that I felt against the law enforcement officers of the traffic department. But first I wanted them to explain what happened and how they came to have him.
From their explanations, it turned out that the traffic department had set up speed traps near our house on the morning he had disappeared. Fairly common to the Highveld, a sudden change in the weather brought a sudden rainstorm and the officers had to quickly run and gather their gear.
The car they used was the same model and colour Ford as my own car. Gambit was evidently on his way home, running past in the rain, but when he saw the open door of the Ford, they said he just jumped in. They claimed not to have pulled him in. They also admitted that they immediately saw that he was obedience trained and sheepishly admitted that he was the perfect dog for the service they provided.
They did not make any serious effort to find the owner of the dog. The officer who kept Gambit at his house told me that near midnight he often heard him become restless and he had escaped over the wall. He used his car to catch up to him and took him back to his house. Gambit clearly must have heard my nightly whistle sessions and tried to escape and come back to me. What a Good Boy!
I was so happy to get my dog back in good health that I did not want to prolong the issue with the traffic department. Because only one lady gave me an honest answer she deserved a box of chocolates from me.
We had many years of loyal love and protection from dear Gambit until at the age of 10+ years when he gradually began to suffer from hip dysplasia or (DM) Degenerative Myelopathy. He eventually would lie on the lawn outside the house and not be able to stand anymore. I remember spending a night sleeping next to him until the vet joined us the following morning. He joined us lying together for a while until it was time to end it all.
