Stories From Under A Bootheel (Rants, Laughs, and Tears)

Chapter 7 My Dad Part 3 A Dog Named George

My father was allergic to dogs as am I and are my children; so, I know that was not the real reason my mother wouldn't let us get one. The watery eyes and occasional sneezing are more than compensated for by the companionship of a dog. The real reason was that we couldn't afford the costs of dog ownership, licensing, shots, vet bills, etc. Especially after the hospital costs from my recent bout with salmonella. My mother understood this, but the ten-year-old me didn't; so, she just told me my dad was allergic.  

It was the summer after fourth grade. The neighbor across the street had a niece from Kentucky living with them for a few weeks during the summer. Nan was a year younger than myself and my next-door neighbor Terri, but we all got along very well so we spent a lot of time together.

As I was heading over to Nan's uncle's house, I noticed she and Terri were playing with a puppy in the front yard. "Where did you get the puppy," I asked. I sat down on the ground with them and then fell backwards as the puppy crawled up to my face and began licking me. It was the greatest feeling ever.

"The folks behind us found a litter of puppies and gave me one," Nan answered. "But aunt Violet says I can't keep it. I guess I'll have to give it back."

As the puppy continued to wallow all over me, I realized I had to figure out how to keep this puppy around. I knew Terri's mother would never let her have another dog. That left only one option. I presented my plan to the girls. We could hide the puppy in the bushes in my back yard. We could take turns looking after it. I would get food for the dog and after a week or so my parents would see that keeping a dog was no trouble at all and so they would let me keep it.

The best laid plans of mice, men, and young boys...We got the puppy temporarily squared away in my backyard and the girls watched over it while I went for food. I scraped together what little money I had saved from birthdays and odd jobs and headed out to the store about 8 blocks away.

As I was walking home with my newly purchased six pack of can dog food, my mother happened to drive by. Wondering what I was doing so far from home. And what was that I was carrying? Even as a kid, I was pretty good at coming up with extemporaneous explanations, but I never could lie to my mother. I told her everything.

My mother later told me it had broken her heart to see how I had used my own money to buy dog food. So even though we couldn't afford it, I got to keep the dog.

When I told the girls that my mother said I could keep the dog, we preceded to the next order of business which was giving the dog a name. I explained it would have to be a boy's name because my parents wouldn't let me keep a female dog because they could have puppies. Nan suggested we use her older brother's name, George.

When my father got home, I introduced him to George. My father, despite his allergies really loved dogs. He picked the pup up, took a quick look and informed me my puppy's name was Georgianna.

My dad was a bigger fool than any of us over that dog. He would take her to the beer joint with him on Saturdays and explain to people she was a rare off-shore Labrador Retriever. Other times he would simply say she was a Heinz breed referring to the condiments maker's Famous 57 varieties.

And so, Georgianna, became a permanent member of our family. Naturally she got the run of the house and anything else she wanted. The flood gates were now open for our house to become pet central. After she was with us a year, Georgianna had a litter of pups. My sister going with a Latin theme named the two males Romulus and Remus. My mother opting for a more Christian theme named the three females Faith, Hope, and Charity. We gave them all away except Romulus. He was very unique and became my mother's dog.

My father found a mother dog and three pups at a job site and brought them home. We found homes for the mother dog and two of the pups. My father kept the third pup as his own. He called her Cuddles. My Father now had three dogs to take with him to the beer joint on Saturdays. He loved to tease people with the brain teaser: "I have three dogs. They have a total of 57 toes. How many toes does each dog have?" The answer was not 19, although that was the number of toes Romulus was born with. Georgianna had twenty toes and Cuddles had eighteen. Do you know how many toes your dog has? The number of dew claws on dog's two hind legs can vary from none to one on each leg.

Georgianna was the smartest dog I have ever owned. She died when I was away at college. I still have tears thinking about it. This memoir is getting hard for me to write. Getting old you have lots of fond memories, but even those can make you sad.