I remember when she used to run up to me when I opened the door, when I came home from school. She would lie in the one place in our house where she could see all three doors, and if one of them opened, she would investigate.
My parents would tell me stories of how, when I was a baby, she would be really nice to me. When the doorbell rang, we would both bolt towards it, but she would be very careful not to knock me over. Once I started talking, she decided that I did not need to be under "delicate care" anymore, so she started running down the hallways and purposely shoving me over.
Whenever I would walk by our back gate, and she was outside, she would put her front paws up on the fence top, and look at me over the fence. This happened often when I when to my next door neighbor's house and she saw me. It was so cute! Everytime it happened I went over and pet her.
We used to take her on walks every saturday and Sunday at Windy Run, and then afterwards my neighbor, her mom, my mom, and I would all go to 7-11, and she and my neighbor's dog would both climb into the front seats and wait for us, because the front seats were closer to the store (she always thought that we were going to abandon her, because when we trained her, my dad would hide behind a tree, so she doesn't run away now, but is always afraid we are leaving her somewhere). I walked out of the store, and I saw her staring at the door, with one of her front paws on the steering wheel, as if she was about to drive away.
Another time my mom, ginger, and I were all at my grandma's, and we were preparing to leave, and the car was all packed up, and my mom came inside for the last few hours before we left, and my grandma asked where Ginger and I were, and they looked all over the house, but finally found us both in the car. We were both sitting the car ready to go, as if we were afraid she was going to leave us there.
We would throw the ball for her every morning, and we would hold up the ball and she would look at us, yearningly, with one paw lifted, like a pointer when it has caught a scent (only she was much cuter). She would look at us like that until we threw the ball. And I could never throw the baql far enough when I was little so the ball was always taken away from me, which, needless to day, made me indignant.
We could never sweep when Ginger was in the room, because she would attack the broom, She would start biting the bristles, and then finally lift up the entire broom by the bristles, and have this look of triumph on her face. We had to lock her in a room when we swept.
I had a llama toy, that was filled with sawdust, and made with real llama fur. So, of course, Ginger would smell it and immediatly start attacking it. Eventually, she had tore it up so bad that the sawdust started to come out, and we had to hide it in the top shelf of a closet, where she could not reach it.
Also, one time my uncle hid chocolate Easter eggs for my sister and I, while we were on vacation so we could do the hunt when we returned. Ginger spent the time while we were gone, sniffing out all the chocolate and eating it, foil and all. She tore up a tissue box to get one, and some were in those plastic Easter eggs, and she even got those. She held one end with her paw and bit off the other end. Our dog-sitter said she was really hyper for about five days after eating all that chocolate.
When we lived across the street, she had a dog house she used, and I remember I used to crawl into the doghouse with her, so she would have company.
I remember once I wondered what her dog food tasted like, so I ate her dinner. And in turn, she got mine.
She, like a normal dog, hated baths. We would have to have one person hold her while the other hosed her down and washed her with soap.
There is a low section in our backyard fence, and Ginger used to jump the fence and wander, but she neve wandered far, she would usuall y go and sit in the front yard, or in the front porch, waiting for someone to arrive.
Another thing I used to do with her was to parade her around the house with the leash. When i was little and I wanted to take Ginger on walks at random times, so I would hook her up to her leash, and parade her (or more likely drag her) around the house, in circles. I remember she resisted, so she must not have liked it, but I didn't realize that then.
I remember that I used to fall asleep on Ginger's tummy. She was always so warm, and I could just snuggle up and fall asleep.
I always wanted to hear what Ginger was thinking, so my mom would start and dictate what she pretended Ginger said. When she stopped, I'd ask, "What's she thinking now?" I really thought she could tell what she was thinking, then.
The way we rough-housed with Ginger was to push her head to the side, and she would start play-growling, and barking, and getting really wriled up, and the only way to calm her down was to put your hand on her head and keep it there, until she realized you didn't want to rough-house anymore, and then she would wag her tail and walk over to be pet. I remember I used to get really scared when I was really little, and my dad did it with her. I didn't like it.
Once, when I was younger, I got curious and bit Ginger on the nose. She bit me on the noes in return (softly for a dog), and I remember crying in my mom's lap, and complaining (she wasn't very sympathetic). Ginger taught me that day that, if you bite/hurt something, it might bite/hurt you back.
I used to pick up Ginger's paws and dance with her to the radio and she would try to nibble on my hands so I would put her down, but I was dancing and moving her, she couldn't reach my hands.
When Lauren and Sally first moved in next door and we started taking walks with them both, sally would find sticks, and she would be very protective and play keep away. Ginger would go and steal Sally's stick, and Ginger would growl at sally when she tried to get it back, and Sally had to get a new stick.
At one point, we had a sheep head, I forget why, but we didn't want Ginger to get it, so we buried it in the backyard. The next day we found her in the backyard eating it, she had dug it up.
Whenever there were any bees, Ginger would snap at them and try to eat them. It was funny.
Another time, Ginger was walking in front of me at Windy Run and she accidentally stepped in a bees' nest, in the ground. I was behind her so they swarmed me, and I got stung on my toe and through my shirt. One got stuck in Gigner's leg and we did not see it until we got to the creek where we got it off.
I used to try and run with her, but she was so much faster than I was, she would always go was ahead of me. It was frustrating.
I remember that she used to walk around when I was little, and she would hit me with her tail, unintentionally, but she was just happily wagging her tail and oblivious.
This page is a work in progress. It is constantly being added to, and worked on. Also in speculation is a collage of pictures of her, which I plan to post later. If you knew Ginger, and you remember something that she used to do, please email me at the emil address shown below, and I will add it to the "Friends of Ginger" page as soon as I can.
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