JUST A HIPPIE GYPSY

A PUPPY TALE

Poo-Poo is up North looking at houses while I am down south getting this one in order, uncluttered and market ready. I realize that I have a certain criteria for the new house. Pretty simple, three bedrooms, two baths, family room, living room, lots of closets and a fireplace. This is Joe's criteria...fenced in yard so he can have a dog.

When he first told me his intent, I began to list every reason under the sun why I don't want a dog. Can not pick up and go on a whim. Must always think DOG then everything else. Dog's smell. They slobber on you.

The real reason came to me this afternoon while reading Ruth Store News - A Richards Bend Production. It made me recall a certain winter that I survived with a pot belly stove. The coldest winter that ever blew over Kentucky. Three feet of snow and ice so severe that the Ohio River froze. We had a dog, Terra. I would open the door to the frozen terrain and order her, "Terra, go find wood" and that smart dog would run out there and come back with sticks for me to poke into the fire.

I loved that dog. We spent a lot of long cold nights near the Warm Morning stove huddled together for warmth. That spring, after the thaw, a friend of ours came over and brought his chocolate Lab along. The Lab and Terra took off running....and we never found them again.

My heart was broken. I looked for that dog for weeks. I just hope she found a good home, she was such a smart dog.

Then there was Toby, my brothers dog. Now Toby was a Springer Spaniel, a Liver color I believe they called it. That dog was plain mean. Bridget was so small and just learning to crawl. She would happily lumber over towards Toby while he was sleeping....he would not even open his eyes, he would just raise his lip and go, "Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr". She always stopped, they instinctively understood each other. Toby bit one of my brothers fiends one night. As a matter of fact, J.B. was a hottie, a strinkingly handsome hippie that turned heads where ever he went. He bent down to pet Toby and he went for his face! Golly it was awful! Bite anyone in the face, not J.B.!!!! Jesus Mary and Joseph! It was not too bad, but that was the end of Toby. My bro found a farm to take him.

You would have thought he had committed murder the way my sisters carried on. So Mom and Dad then got Thunder, named so because my sister loved Bruce Springsteen and Thunder was actually Thunder Row. Also a Liver Springer Spaniel but female and the most lovable puppy ever. She was bred to another Springer and Bridget above is holding one of the litter.

Thunder got sick with some form of blood disorder and was in and out of the Dog Hospital quite a lit around the seventh year of her life. On the day before that another of my brothers was getting married Thunder became gravely ill and was taken
to the vet. She hung on and passed away the day after the wedding.

She was a wonderful dog up to the very end.

And that is preisely why I do not want a dog. I am tearing up thinking about Thunder and Terra right now. And Jingel Bells too, but she deserves an entry entirely for herself. They do not stick around long enough. I become too attached and the pain is too intense.

I think I want a Springer again.