My father gave me my first Weimaraner when I was two years old -- that was in1950. We lived out in the country where my Father raised cotton/grain/and Brahman cattle. I kept trying to take my baby sister out of the crib to play with, so he got me a dog. It was an AKC registered male. When my father died, I was 16. When they cleaned out his safe, the AKC papers were there. Knowing how much the dog meant to me, my Mother saved those papers for me --but when the safe was cleaned out after her death, someone didn't know the meaning of that certificate and destroyed the paper. But I'll never forget that dog and what he added to my life. His call name was 'Quirt. ' My Mother named him after a John Wayne cowboy character--she liked the way John Wayne walked...and Quirt had a great rear! I could tell so many stories of how that dog ran alongside the horse every afternoon when we'd go riding; he'd swim in the Gulf of Mexico at my side no matter how deep; he would have protected me to his own death. One afternoon my Mother locked him in the house when we went for a swim in the Gulf...we'd been in the salt water so much that morning, that he'd gotten sick on the beach and she thought he needed to rest...Twenty minutes later, here came Quirt! He'd jumped through the closed window -- drapes, glass and all -- he knew I wasn't safe if HE wasn't there to protect me. Another story...we lived on a ranch 15 miles from town. My parents had gone to a party two miles away,
| and we were at home with a babysitter. It was right before Christmas and all of the gifts were wrapped sitting under the tree and visible from the windows -- at least that was what they think was the reason this man broke into the house --- little did he expect this big, strong, gray dog with big, strong, white, teeth when he came through the door! Quirt chased him out of the house, across the yard, through the horse corrals and into the feed storage house. The man somehow trapped Quirt (he thought) in the feed house and escaped through the back door; but, as we already know, windows wouldn't stop Quirt! He went through the window and trapped the man in the pasture behind the house....standing guard over him, growling, until my father came running up to take over! (The babysitter had called him in a panic....she didn't know Quirt could take care of the situation.)Quirt died of heartworms in 1960--before the better treatments and preventatives that we have available now. Since Quirt there have been other Weimaraners -- all loved and cherished, many named in his honor...Lash, Whip, Lasso, Lariat, even a Quirt II...and each a tribute to my first gray friend! But there will never be another dog like Quirt! He holds a special place in my heart and always will! So, Welcome to Win'Weim Homepage, and remember that there is a history of Weimaraners here at Win'Weim.....
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