Dasko’s Story

It was Christmas eve 1998. As the Lufthansa Boeing 747 started its descent toward Washington ’s Dulles International Airport, I was tense. Was he still alive? It had been a very tense flight. Jutta, my wife, and I had boarded the flight in Frankfurt about eight and a half hours earlier. The manner in which he had collapsed just before the flight had left me wondering whether he would still be alive when we arrived in Washington. Would we make it in time?

St. Martin, Germany

The saga had started over a year earlier. Jutta and I, with Cento vom Lauran, our one year old German Shepherd Dog, had flown from Washington to Germany for holidays.

Jutta had her yearly class reunion. It was near by St. Martin, close to the French border. Cento and I were to stay at a hotel in St. Martin.


Tessa and Jutta

St. Martin, Germany

Cento was our second German Shepherd Dog. We had gotten him some time after we lost our first German Shepherd Dog, Tessa von Rautenstrauch, to old age. She had been an absolutely wonderful companion, accompanying us every year on our trips to Germany. This was to be Cento’s first trip to Germany.

St. Martin is a small tourist town, dating back several centuries, with narrow streets paved with cobble stones. It looked as if it was fashioned after Disneyland! The  hotel was at least a century old. Across the street was a winery. In fact, St. Martin was one winery after another, with green vineyards extending as far as one could see.