When I was 3 my Dad brought home a little white pup with
a curly tail. I think he was a Heinz dog, as in 57 varieties.
My Dad named him Pancho. Pancho Villa had become kind of
a folk hero among common folks. A modern day Robin Hood.
After my 4 years in the Air Force, still only 21, I came home.
Pancho was 18 when he died, shortly after I got home. He never
knew dog food. He always ate what we ate.
After I married and settled down I got us a Collie dog. His
name was Lucky. We lived out a couple of miles from town in
a farming area. One day a neighbor farmer came to visit. He
told us our Collie was a natural sheep herder. He comes down to
my place, rounds up my sheep, puts them in a corner by the
house and lays down and guards them. I was so proud. But
then he said there is just one problem. I don't want my sheep
rounded up like that. I would hate to have to shoot him. I
begged him to at least give him a warning shot. He did, and
Lucky never went back.
When I was in my 40s, my daughter and son in law gave me
a pair of Chesapeake Retrievers for a birthday present. Bert and
Liz. Bert wasn't quite a year old when pheasant season opened.
At the official starting time of Noon, there were several hunters
lined up on a ridge overlooking a grain stubble field. Bert flushed
the first pheasant. I knocked it down and Bert pounced on it. He
brought it back and sat down in front of me. I held out my hand
and Bert dropped the pheasant in my hand. I looked around and
all the other hunters were watching. I was really proud.
At 86, I have had several other dogs, but these three stand
out in my memory this morning.
a curly tail. I think he was a Heinz dog, as in 57 varieties.
My Dad named him Pancho. Pancho Villa had become kind of
a folk hero among common folks. A modern day Robin Hood.
After my 4 years in the Air Force, still only 21, I came home.
Pancho was 18 when he died, shortly after I got home. He never
knew dog food. He always ate what we ate.
After I married and settled down I got us a Collie dog. His
name was Lucky. We lived out a couple of miles from town in
a farming area. One day a neighbor farmer came to visit. He
told us our Collie was a natural sheep herder. He comes down to
my place, rounds up my sheep, puts them in a corner by the
house and lays down and guards them. I was so proud. But
then he said there is just one problem. I don't want my sheep
rounded up like that. I would hate to have to shoot him. I
begged him to at least give him a warning shot. He did, and
Lucky never went back.
When I was in my 40s, my daughter and son in law gave me
a pair of Chesapeake Retrievers for a birthday present. Bert and
Liz. Bert wasn't quite a year old when pheasant season opened.
At the official starting time of Noon, there were several hunters
lined up on a ridge overlooking a grain stubble field. Bert flushed
the first pheasant. I knocked it down and Bert pounced on it. He
brought it back and sat down in front of me. I held out my hand
and Bert dropped the pheasant in my hand. I looked around and
all the other hunters were watching. I was really proud.
At 86, I have had several other dogs, but these three stand
out in my memory this morning.
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