Dogs

While we lived in the country, we had several dogs.

One of the most memorable was Temper – a Chihuahua. Temper thought he was a hugh dog and he tried to boss other dogs around. He also liked to burrow. One night my grandpa Appling spent the night with us and during the night Temper stole his underwear, carried it out to the sofa and burrowed into it for a comfy night’s sleep. Temper was frightened of thunder and more than once he found a basket of clean clothes and burried himself in them while the weather was bad outside. Sometimes we would pretend that Temper was a beef roast and put him inside a toy roll-top desk to pretend that it was an oven. We would lift the lid and ask, “Is he done yet”? Temper loved to run with other dogs also. He finally ran off one night and we never found him again.

Bosco was our next dog. Bosco would get onto the roof of one of the garages by climbing the cellar roof and stand at the peak looking for my Dad to come home. Bosco loved to chase cars. We tried to break him of the habit but we were never successful. We heard that one method of making a dog quit chasing cars was to shoot him in the face with a water pistol filled with soapy water. That would make his eyes sting and he would quit that habit. Dad and I drove around one day, even driving across the yead, trying to shoot him with a water pistol but neither of us were good enough shots. Bosco was finally done in by his habit when he got hit by a car.

King was our next dog. He was a beautiful German Shephard. He disappeared for a few days once and after that he was very docile and often got intimidated by the other dogs. We think he may have been beaten while he was gone.

Frisky was our next dog and he lasted the longest. We got this poodle while still living in the country and while we still had King. He lived to be about 20 years old. He was a bossy dog and would intimidate our German Shephard. Dad got some clippers to save money on hair cuts for the dog and I found out that Frisky had pink skin that sunburns easily. Frisky liked to find disgusting things and roll in them. He thought it made him smell good. Eventually Frisky got cancer and had one leg amputated. The vet came and visited us after the surgery and told us how Frisky would get all the other dogs barking and she would have to go out and get him quieted down. He continued for a few more years as a happy 3 legged dog.