Whole Dog Journal's Blog June 7, 2017

Early Dog Memories

Posted at 03:29PM - Comments: (27)

I once visited with a family friend whom I hadnt seen for more than 20 years, someone who had known my family and me since I was about four years old. One of the first things he said to me was, Do you still have dogs? You always had a dog or three with you

At the time of this visit, I hadn’t yet started editing WDJ; I was a horse magazine editor – my entire professional career had been about horses (and journalism) and my hobbies were very horse-based. So I rolled my eyes at my long-estranged friend. “I have a dog, but I mean, I have a lot more to do with horses now...”

Despite my kneejerk denial, he was right. I have been hanging out with dogs for as long as I can remember. Though neither of my parents grew up with dogs, they both loved dogs and were suckers when their four children all turned out to be dog lovers, too, and wanted their very own dogs. Because my three siblings are five, six, and seven years older than me, by the time I came along, we already had a house full of dogs. And, again because my siblings are older, by the time I wanted someone to play with, they didn’t really want to play with me – it makes sense; what 10, 11, and 12 year old wants to play with a five year old? – so I entertained myself by playing with the dogs!

Editor Nancy Kerns with one of her family's many pups from the "summer of puppies"

But I don’t have a specific “first” memory of a dog. In my mind, they were just always around, and I felt about them like I felt about my own siblings. I loved them and enjoyed their company. When I was four, my parents moved from a suburb to a home in the country, and there were no kids my age close by. I spent most of my non-school hours with the dogs: building forts in the garden, exploring foot paths along the creek that ran along one side of our property, wading in the creek in the summer, or just lounging around surrounded by dogs. They seemed happy to have a little human companion to explore with, too.

As much as my parents loved dogs, they never seemed to research anything about them. We fed the dogs cheap food from the (livestock) feed store, a pelleted food that looked just like the chicken feed we also bought there. I don’t remember any of the dogs wearing collars. We had an outdoor dog pen with a dog house in it, but I don’t remember the dogs being locked in it very often; like all the pet dogs in our rural area, they ran free – and like all the pet dogs in our area, were frequently killed by cars on the main two-lane road that ran through our valley. (Working ranch dogs were always penned or chained somewhere on their owner’ property. They were too valuable to run free.)

And none of the dogs were altered! Welcome to rural California, circa 1970! One summer (joyous for me) we had three litters of (unplanned, uncontrolled) mixed-breed puppies born to our dogs at about the same time. It wasn’t my fault, I was just a little kid, but maybe all my shelter volunteerism comes from some residual guilt about all those canine lives so randomly created and given away.

One of those mother dogs was a Lab-mix. Perhaps crowded by the other two dog moms, she moved her puppies one night to a location underneath a huge bank of blackberry vines near the creek. She still showed up at our back door for meals, but as soon as she ate, she’d make a beeline for the blackberries and would slither along the ground back into the tangle. When the puppies were about five weeks old, my mom ordered my 12-year-old brother (and he recruited some of his friends) to crawl on their bellies into the vines and retrieve the puppies, before they grew up feral. I’ll never forget the excitement of seeing them pass one puppy after another out of the vines; it was like seeing them born all over again, but instead of slimy and blind, they were fully formed, interactive little dogs!

Later, when I was in high school, and my siblings were all out of the house, I started researching proper dog care. I arranged for all the family dogs – including those left behind by my siblings, whether due to college housing or bad boyfriends or whatever – to be altered. I asked my parents to buy kennels and installed them in our yard, went to the landscaping supply store and bought pea gravel to put in the runs, and made sure that the dogs were locked up or in the house at night; ending the long run of “HBC” (hit by car) incidents in our family. I took the dogs to the vet for their vaccinations and kept collars with ID on them. And, yes, when I went places, as my family friend recalled, I almost always took my own dogs with me! I didn’t trust my parents to be as responsible with my dogs as they had always been with the family dogs!

The family friend who had last seen me when I was about 18 has since had the grace not to rub my nose in the fact that now my life is all about dogs, all the time. I own, recreate with, foster, dog-sit, and transport dogs, and of course, my job is all about dogs. My family today makes fun of the fact that even when we take a dog-free vacation, if I see a dog and have a camera in my hand, I abandon my family and run to take pictures, so I have files and files of photos of dogs in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jersey, New York, Hawaii, Germany, Italy, Greece, Canada – anywhere my son or stepkids live or have lived or where we went on vacation together. In Pompeii, others marveled at the ruins; I was fascinated with the packs of feral dogs that expertly worked the tourists, attaching themselves to each new group descending from the tour buses, begging for treats. And I have frequent opportunities to use these random photos for WDJ, so my “ditch the family for dog photos” habit is reinforced.

Anyway, what about you? Did you grow up with dogs or find them later? What are your earliest dog memories?

Comments (27)

The longest time I ever spent without a dog is two weeks. I have a picture of 16 month old me standing next to my brother's cocker spaniel. When she died of leukemia, my uncle, (who was also our vet) found a cocker spaniel mix that someone had abandoned. He was a little over a year old. His name was Pal and we went everywhere together. He walked me to school and picked me up at dismissal. He died when I was 18, and he must have been close to that. Two weeks later I came home from the pound with a puppy. When I married, Zorba, 150 mixed breed. came with the deal. Since then I have usually had two dogs. All my dogs are rescues, because they are the best dogs!

Posted by: funkynan | June 14, 2017 8:26 PM    Report this comment

I always had cats, but my first puppy was a stray, and it scratched me. My father felt something was wrong with it. It had rabies and I wound up taking 21 shots, 1 a day for 21 days even on Sundays. This was in the 1950's. Now, I help with rescues and have a number of dogs and cats; dogs from 4 pounds to 65 pounds. I really love all my pets.

Posted by: Mybabies70 | June 10, 2017 5:15 PM    Report this comment

Love reading our various dog histories.

I have a question too.

When was the first time you remember hearing about a dog being killed by a dog on neutral ground or during an invasion?

For me it was in the 1980s when a coworker sadly reported to that her cousin's dog was killed in its own yard.

I didn't believe it at first! I'd been around dogs all my life and never had known of any dog fights to be deadly. Bites stitches yes, but never fatalities.

Was it possibly a bear?
No they saw the dog killing their beagle, it was definitely a dog.

Maybe it had rabies?
No, it belongs to a neighbor in their town and it doesn't have rabies. It has attacked other dogs in the past too.

Fatal neutral ground dog attacks are now becoming commonplace in many areas.
IMO, this change is not acceptable.

Posted by: Thinkaboutit | June 10, 2017 3:10 PM    Report this comment

The first dog I vividly remember lived up the street from us in Rochester, Minnesota. It was a St. Bernard, and I was two years old. It pulled the neighborhood kids (we were very little) on a sled in the deep snow up the sidewalk. I still dream about that wonderful dog and it's thick white coat and brown face. My parents tell me we had a small terrier when I was under age three but I can't remember that dog. I wonder whether I remember the Saint because they got rid of the terrier? I was not allowed to have pets while growing up, even though the one thing I always asked for at Christmas and birthdays was a dog. "You have brothers and sisters to play with." However, I managed to befriend feral neighborhood cats and loved any dog I could manage to touch. I literally read all the dog books in the library. As soon as I left home I acquired a cat, and the first of many, many dogs have visited my life. I love giant breeds and working and herding dogs, probably because of that St. Bernard. I train, foster, rescue --- and sleep with dogs. I have had many highly media visible jobs (not animal related), but most people recognize me for the wonderful dogs that are always with me. That one impactful dog is my first and most vivid memory 60 years later.

Posted by: Hannahbelle | June 9, 2017 3:51 PM    Report this comment

My mother grew up on a farm hating animals. My fathers parents had a dog in the house. My mother related to me that when I was about 3 years old, she had me all dressed up in my Easter finest. Somehow, I wandered alone out to the sidewalk and encountered a big Saint Bernard who apparently was as happy to see me as I was to see him. I got a big sloppy Saint Bernard kiss. My mother was horrified and had to find something else for me to wear. She was mad! She said I had the biggest smile on my face even though Id just been slurped by A DOG. She hated all animals, I always loved them, my father was neutral. Im the critter kid who grew up loving other peoples pets. As an adult Ive had ferrets, cats, and dogs. My mother was always appalled that I had critters IN THE HOUSE and my father could never figure out how I got them all to behave so well. I think I took after my mothers mother who loved critters, had a dog in the house, and raised canaries. I loved my grandmother and was so sad I only got to visit her once a year. I loved all the farm critters except the bull who scared me and everybody else.

Posted by: ThrpyDogTeam | June 9, 2017 8:20 AM    Report this comment

We didn't own dogs :-( My earliest memories are of Pierre-Pierre, the Scottie who lived next door with two elderly spinsters. Pierre-Pierre used to give us kiddies birthday presents :-) Then my friend's family had dogs -- what I considered a rather mad Irish/Red Setter who used to mostly have a dead chook hanging from her collar, and a Fox Terrier bitch who had pups and my friend's father bit the tails of them :-(
We moved to Sydney when I was seven, and friends there had a little Cocker Spaniel called Sally (Most pronounced Sallallallallallee), and our next door neighbours who had a Collie/German Shepherd cross. They used to let me walk her, and we enjoyed a lot of rambles together. I always felt safe and she was always impeccably behaved. (No lead for her, no shoes for me, just me and dog.)

Posted by: Jenny H | June 8, 2017 10:28 PM    Report this comment

My first word as a baby was dog. I have never been with out one since.

Posted by: tmatt | June 8, 2017 8:26 PM    Report this comment

As the youngest of 4 siblings, by the time I came along, our "beagle" mix, Mitty (I think it was really Mittens) was old and fat. I remember when her cataracts got so bad she bumped into things, and mom came back from the vet and said we couldn't do anything, just don't rearrange the furniture! Mitty finally passed during our stay at that rental house. FINALLY my parents were able to buy a house again, but it was out of the village on a busy rural road. By this time, I had memorized my parents' one book on dog breeds - 72 breeds!!! (early 60's, old book). Mitty had been spayed (I believe) but perhaps only because of her age. So with the new house, my parents finally gave in and got me MY OWN DOG. At this point, my brother had graduated high school, my sister followed and started college, and my other brother seemed only interested in trains. In the space of a bit over a year, I got one puppy, Princess, who was hit when I let her off lead (showing off to a friend). Next, we went back for her brother who was still available. His name was Peanuts. And of course, we let them out loose out of the house, everyone did in those days. He was caught once by a paw and spun around (I saw it because I had called him when I saw him across the street, not knowing any better). He limped for a bit and then was fine. My parents thought he'd learned his lesson. But no, one day I came home to find out he had been hit and killed. I was devastated and gave up. A month or two later, I came home from school to find that my mom had adopted a dog whose "owner" was a college kid at school in Colorado. The kid brought him home and dumped him on his mom, who didn't want him. On the plus side, he was solidly toilet trained. His name however was Bugger. For many, many years I thought it was like booger - like nose boogers. Not sure if my mom understood, but neither parent knew you could change a dog's name. He stayed out of the street (plus I kept him at the back of the house), and accompanied me on every adventure I had for the next 10 years. I learned the power of testosterone too - we finally had him neutered and then kept him on a run cable in the back yard after he disappeared for 3 days and was finally discovered with his girlfriend! Another time he was found in the pen (6' chain link on 3 sides, barn on the other) with a purebred German Shepherd in heat. The fence was bottomed into the soil. The only way he could have gotten in was to climb a ladder to the hayloft and jump out the window where hay used to be loaded in!!!! Of course, now I spay or neuter my dogs, and use positive reinforcement training. How things have changed!!!

Posted by: Topher | June 8, 2017 7:06 PM    Report this comment

My mom had Irish Terriers and advised us early on, "If Patsy grabs your arm, don't pull away." My mom had a lot of common sense and I was always in awe of her good judgment.

Posted by: dinosaurdogmom | June 8, 2017 4:59 PM    Report this comment

Over neutering and spaying*

Posted by: ILoveDogs | June 8, 2017 3:33 PM    Report this comment

I think if we want to be responsible for our dogs to not produce litters to add to the already overpopulation, we also have to be responsible regarding their long-term health. I prefer vasectomy and tubal ligation over neutering and tubal ligation. The article here can help owners judge for themselves - nocastration dot org. If this doesn't open their eyes, that's too bad for their dogs.

Posted by: ILoveDogs | June 8, 2017 3:33 PM    Report this comment

I grew up in a very small town in the Texas panhandle in the 1950's and 1960's. My parents were both suckers for stray dogs. But they always had the dogs fixed. I wish I knew how they were so forward thinking; it's certainly something I appreciate.

Posted by: SadieSue | June 8, 2017 2:40 PM    Report this comment

Fufu was 2 when I was born. She was a dachshund and rat terrier mix and looked like a corgi. My dad got her from an untamed litter of puppies living under a porch. The all ran, but Fufu had shorter legs and he was able to catch her. My first memory of her was hearing her toenails click on the floor as she was dancing by my crib in the morning. Mom said she could depend on Fufu to let her know when I was awake. Although not very big, delivery men would not get out of their trucks, if Fufu was outside. That was over 60 years ago and I still love the memory of Fufu.

Posted by: sky71f | June 8, 2017 2:10 PM    Report this comment

When I was born my parents already had Smokie, a mix of unknown origin who had followed my grandfather home one day. The story is that my grandmother who didn't want a dog then took Smokie to church and left her outside the church door. When she came out Smokie was gone. This had happened with several dogs. But Smokie was different. When Grandmom got home there was Smokie on the front steps. Smokie stayed for over ten years until she died. Smokie was also the first dog that ever bit me. I laid down on the floor with her and pestered her so much that she growled. My mother told me to stop because Smokie was not happy. I did not listen to either of them so Smokie let me have it right on the nose. Luckily all I needed was a tetanus shot. That was my first lesson in "dog speak."

Posted by: clevercaninesinc | June 8, 2017 12:56 PM    Report this comment

We've had dogs for as long as I can remember. As a young adult living with my parents in Connecticut, I would walk our 2 dogs into adjoining fields daily and several of the neighborhood dogs would join in on the walk. No dogs were tied up back then- the 60's. All of our dogs were spayed or neutered but I don't recall flea or tick meds nor do I recall any fleas - only a very rare tick. Later, married and living on 184 acres in the NC mountains, we always had 4 dogs, running free and just enjoying life. They lived in the house (dog door) and mostly stayed on our property. Our dogs were spayed and neutered and were on flea and tick meds. All dogs were rescues. There was really no training as such but all dogs were well behaved and loved. Our remoteness did encourage drop-off dogs and cats and we rescued, I estimate, around a hundred which includes litters of puppies and kittens. We tried to find homes for most but ended up taking many to our local shelter which, unfortunately, was not a no-kill facility. That was throughout the 90's. Then, on 110 acres in a remote area of Tennessee, we had dog problems. One of our dogs became dog aggressive after being attacked - in the past - on at least two occasions by other dogs. In TN, she saw several neighbor dogs on our property and attacked. She was outnumbered and only survived due to my husbands' interference. That was hard and dogs were injured. Then the dogs whom she attacked would come to our house and, at the bottom of a long driveway, bark until our dogs heard and went out to meet the challenge. At that point, the (fight) was more bluff than actual fight but it continued until we moved, which was not long after. Trying to elicit the help of a neighbor who owned the other dogs was fruitless. It was a very rough area. We managed to get along with several rather primitive families in the NC hills but there is a whole other level of backwardness in the TN hills. The area we were in anyway. Most dogs were not neutered there, flea and tick (never mind heart worm) meds were unheard of and food was catch as catch can. And forget vets - immunizations were also unheard of. That was only 12 years ago and I really doubt if it has changed. Now we live in a very nice neighborhood in the Georgia mountains and most families have dogs which are not confined nor is fencing allowed. We all manage to get along well as most dogs stay on their own property or close by. All dogs are well fed and cared for. So far, so good.

Posted by: bet4dogs | June 8, 2017 12:40 PM    Report this comment

Great article! I was raised by a cocker spaniel, and several other sweet pups after her - and have never been dogless; except for my year away at college. Since then, I have been owned by 4 golden retrievers - and know now, that life without a golden is not worth living :-)

Posted by: dogwoman | June 8, 2017 11:43 AM    Report this comment

My Mother said her Dalmatian, "Blue," used to guard me, when she would set me outside in the yard on a blanket. "No one could get near you, when Blue was watching out for you," she would tell me. She said my Dad was jealous of the dog, took Blue for a drive one day and came back without the dog. (It hurts my heart, just thinking about that.) That was in the early 1950s. Santa Barbara, CA.

The first dog I remember having was a JYD. A bona fide Junkyard Dog, "Nibbs" was a failure as a guard dog at the junkyard and was given to us by a friend.

We kept Nibbs outside for the first few days we had him. I was only 11 years old. My Mom and I (Dad long-since given the boot) had heard Dobermans could be a bit vicious. I think we were both waiting for Nibbs to show us his Dark Side.

One day, it began to rain softly. Nibbs was tied up, hanging out under the back eaves of the house, shivering. "Poor thing," said my Mother. "He looks so unhappy. I think we should bring him inside."

Nibbs was the best walking companion ever. He could go for miles. I would run him alongside my bicycle, telling him "up on the sidewalk," and we went to the beach and to mountain trails, me on the bike and him loping along, always on an adventure. We would take long walks in the pouring rain.
Nibbs was always off-leash. People would cross the street whenever they saw us coming, thanks to Dobermans having such a bad reputation as mean dogs. Nibbs was such a buttercup, too.

I remember Nibbs became terrific at spotting rattlesnakes. On the trails he would always alert me with a special bark: "Snake! Snake!"

I wish I had known then what I know now about dog nutrition and flea control and all of the rest. Nibbs was the best dog ever. He deserved the best.

When Nibbs had to be euthanized (kidney failure), I was 17. It was one of the most horrible experiences of my life, hearing that vet tell me Nibbs would have to be "euthanized." How sad that I didn't think to bring him home and bury him in our yard. My Mom wouldn't even come into the vet's office, she was so shook up.

Within a couple weeks, I went to "The Pound" and adopted a Redbone hound. He was a year old. I named him "Roko." My Mom had him neutered, first thing. That hound. He would run 12 miles with the bike, get home and 15 minutes later we'd get a call from across town: "I think we have your dog."

Posted by: chiwoowa9 | June 8, 2017 11:34 AM    Report this comment

I have very early dog memories as a toddler we had a GSD named Ginger, and a fox terror named Skipper. (Recognize the naming convention? ;-) )

Ginger was a car chaser and I think met her demise that way. Skipper just vanished. That was country living in the early 70s.

My next dog memory was maybe half a year after Skipper vanished; mom found me sitting under the dining table in the middle of the night, weeping and singing "goodbye, Skipper, goodbye, Skipper, goodbye Skipper, we're sad to see you go" I was a sleepwalker as a toddler LOL!

Reflecting on the previous paragraphs, what followed makes perfect sense. We moved into town, and, afte several episodes of He's a stray and followed me home! Can't we keep him? Pleeeeeeeeze??" only to discover the dog was much loved by another family in the neighborhood my parents finally agreed to keep the last one that followed me home. He was a family pet, too, but the dad didn't want he dog. When the daughter later accused me of being a dog thief, I was distraught and told my mom what happened. Mom explained that she offered him $10 for Bogart and he threw the money back at her.

Bogart died when I was 20 and was the last dog in my life for 15 years. Soon, I will be forced to endure the grief of saying goodbye to my first adult dog. :-(

Posted by: CornDog | June 8, 2017 11:34 AM    Report this comment

We had dogs when I was born. There are pictures and stories of two different dogs I have no memory of. In one picture I'm sharing the milk from my bottle with Chief, a terrier mix of some sort. In another story I'm being herded back into the yard by a collie, Lady. When we moved to AZ when I was 3 my family was told a collie couldn't handle the heat so they rehomed her. The rest of my childhood was spent with a Lhasa Apso mix named Tuffy that we got when I was 4. We truly grew up together and I thought of him more as an annoying little brother than as the family dog.

Posted by: Stephenie D | June 8, 2017 11:08 AM    Report this comment

My parents were given a German shepherd dog puppy in Honolulu in 1939 as a wedding gift and since then we have had GSDs or GSD-mixes ever after. My first memory was that puppy, Queenie, now grown old, dying and my mother was inconsolable. I am the same way and grieve each and every dog like a member of the family, which they surely were and are. At 73, I now have two all-black GSDs and we do pet therapy when they aren't chasing squirrels and lizards on our farm.

Posted by: Eileen-Raven | June 8, 2017 11:05 AM    Report this comment

My parents tried a few dogs when I was a child, one dog was a puppy, and it ended up getting really sick it had to be put down. The second dog we got was too wild and my sisters and I were too afraid to go near her, so it was kept in the basement the few months we own her until my dad found a client of his who owned a farm took her. She was very happy living on the farm since she could run free, and was happy until there until she died. The third dog we got was my dog Pepi, a miniature poodle; the love of my life. He was a blessing in my life as a child. He loved me so much and he saved me as a child as I grew up with several learning disabilities. I became a loner since no one understood ADHD and dyslexia, everybody either ignored me or made fun of me since I did so poorly in school, and I couldn't sit still (which embarrassed my sisters in church). I would come home from school and there was Pepi waiting for me, he just loved me for being me. Even my sister gave me a hard time, but Pepi still was there to love me and stayed by my side. He was a great dog as us girls dressed him in dresses and played with him, he NEVER bit anyone, he took all in stride. Sadly when he reached 15 years old he changed drastically, he became senile, diabetic, and hard of hearing. He started biting and snapping at us. When the time came my parents had him put down when I got married and was away on my honeymoon. I never got to say good-bye to Pepi. I told my parents I wasn't upset about putting Pepi down just that I didn't get to say good-bye. I didn't want Pepi to suffer anymore and he wasn't the same dog I grew up with, I wanted to remember him as the wonderful dog that he was to me. Pepi taught me to love all dogs since then. I always had a dog or two in my life for years. I have two dogs now, Vozzy and Belle, I love them dearly. I love Pepi to this day for teaching me about unconditional love. I honor him by owning a dog or two in my life to this day. R.I.P. Pepi until we meet at the Rainbow Bridge again.

Posted by: SueBiss | June 8, 2017 10:58 AM    Report this comment

My family, too, always had a dog - just one at a time. German Shepherds. They too, ran free in our yard, but were trained not to roam around town. However, we also lost two to HBC.

I was also lucky enough to grow up in Maine, and my Dad had a hobby farm with several Hereford cattle (who were all my buddies), and my horse (my best buddy) who was adopted when I was 9.

I digress. My fondest childhood memory of my dogs was the race I had every night when going to bed. My dog slept with me, under the covers, and we would race each other at lights out to jump on the bed and secure our 'spot' for the night. She often enjoyed the largest section of real estate and I would simply sleep curled around her. Today, my husband and I share our home, lives, and our bed with two very special Goldens.

Posted by: Bella and Breeze's Mom | June 8, 2017 10:39 AM    Report this comment

I was just a little kid when we got a mixed breed puppy we called Peppy ("he's full of pep!"). Sadly, he soon became ill, with distemper I think, and was euthanized (ca. 1960). The first loss to death I experienced. A few years later, avid Lassie fans, we talked our parents into a collie, Kelly. Lovely friend for kids, but a car chaser who was eventually re-homed to a farm ... where he was hit by a car and killed. It was a few years later we got a wire-haired terrier named Sherlock. He had been given away since he had so many "problems." He bit my mother as she attempted to put him outside, then one of my friends. He was re-homed after a couple of years as he was increasingly unreliable. Finally, Johnny, reputed to be a cockapoo whom my parents bought spur-of-the-moment when they found him for sale as a tiny puppy in a Walmart-type store. He cost $3. Wonderful friend for 10 years until he was killed by feral dogs. We loved them all.

Posted by: Carolyn M | June 8, 2017 10:37 AM    Report this comment

Dogs have been in my life as far back as I remember. A few years in a dorm were my only "dogless@ years. They were hell. My father was a dog lover also and I have photos of him with dogs following him in areas of his stationing in Pacific during WW2. My kids have dogs too 😊🐶

Posted by: WDJ50 | June 8, 2017 10:35 AM    Report this comment

I think I was born dog obsessed. When I was a preschooler at my grandfather's farm in NY, riders in English garb on a hunt would gallup through the pastures with their horses and dogs. They were Beagles and Bassett hounds. I was fascinated with the dogs so my Dad got them to stop one day so I could see the dogs close up. I was likely 3 or 4 years old. I got my first dog at age 5 after hounding my parents for one practically from the time I could talk. I am 69 yrs old. In my entire life I think, with time added all together, I have never been without a dog for more that 3 weeks.....and I never planon ever being dogless again. They have enriched my life beyond words.

Posted by: theupperpaw2 | June 8, 2017 10:24 AM    Report this comment

This was the 50's. I walked to the bus to go downtown. And, my little mixed mutt followed behind me. And, snook into the back door of the bus to follow me.

Posted by: Barbara Lamar Schulties | June 8, 2017 10:16 AM    Report this comment

My earliest memory of dogs is my first dog Pinocchio. He was a dachshund mix. I had him until I was in the third grade. I used to sleep on my stomach with one leg bent out making a triangle and he used to sleep in that triangle.

Posted by: oceandog63 | June 8, 2017 10:12 AM    Report this comment

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