This is my grandfather's hunting dog. He worried I spoiled the dog and would take the "hunt" out of him by sneaking table scraps, petting him too much and telling him stories. An interesting thing about this picture it that it was taken sometime around 1955....and by happenstance, I have the EXACT same dog today (2009) that I rescued three years ago after I found him starving and abused by some hunters. The two dogs have the same markings , they are the same size (but I have grown a bit!) , a sweet shy temperment, and sometimes I can't help but wonder how we came to find one another........perhaps again?If you ever thought it strange that I have such affection for dogs, these pictures might answer a few questions. My earliest memories are of dogs....the way they smell, the way they feel, but most of all, they way they loved me. I can remember countless times, sitting in the corner of my yard, feeling sad or lonely and telling my various dogs all of my troubles. They always listened politely and made me feel so much better.
As I grew up, I never forgot those feelings of comfort and love. These days, I try to return the favor to dogs who need me, just as I needed them so many years ago. And even though our roles seem to be reversed now, the love we share is just as strong.
These were my friends that I played with at my grandmother's house. I wanted them to feel equal so I insisted on carrying them around together, often with a disasterous outcome for the three of us because I wasn't a very graceful child.....something that followed me into adulthood. We had tea parties, and one day when my grandmother was busy in the house, I put makeup on them. Instead of getting into trouble, my grandmother laughed and told me how beautiful they looked, then we put them in her bathtub and gave them a bath.
I was two years old when this photo was taken in my great-grandmother's yard in Centerville. I don't remember this guy's name but I do remember how he would get low to the ground so I could pet his nose. And his hair was very soft. He followed me everywhere, even though I didn't walk very well. He would stop and wait when I fell, and then off we would go again. I think this was my first love.