Doggie Love

Folks have dogs. So did we. Our folks were the kind that believed kids should have pets. We grew fond of our animals as did most people. Our pet stories were varied. I remember the excitement like it was yesterday. When we saw the beast of a dog that was to be our next pet, we were still inhabitants of 23rd st. The Sears chainlink fence from dads job was all in place. So when the St Bernard arrived for the 4 small kids to play with, it was like Christmas. Our games with that dog consisted of anything we could think of. We put the little ones on for a ride. This was usually Kevin. Kevin was the youngest of the 4. He was small and a momma's boy, so if he fell off and muffed up his little toe head, we knew mommy would give him extra kisses to make him better.



The dog was a contradiction to how our parents cared for this home. My father and mother took meticulous care to ensure that we had a nice home. I think I remember the landscaping winning a neighborhood award for best maintained yard. This was, at this point in middle suburbia history, a lofty honor not made to just any yard. My belief is that it was more a chance for the neighborhood committee to point out all the yards that were not chosen. To be chosen was to be the Chosen Leaders, the example, the mold by which all lawns were graded for at least a month. Our yard as an example, our family as an example this must explain the ultimate demise of 23rd st. We must have been the original "crack in the dam". As was typical, the next month was always a fury to make sure you were in the running for the award again. The house was perfect. New shutters, fresh paint, Jack Byrd using his special caligraphy talents to hand paint our house numbers in what could only be described as the best damn numbers on the block. Dad was working 2 jobs and mom was busy with 4 jobs (Kammy, Jesse, Jeff and Kevin). Both of them were spending all of their spare time trying to elevate us into middle suburbia.



Dad loved his screen doors. Judging from the amount of trouble we got into for slamming them or pushing the screen out or just generally abusing them. Anyone with 4 small children can tell you that maintaining a home at award winning standards can be tough. Keeping the screen in the front door can be almost impossible. Dads new job at Sears allowed us access to many of the newest additions to improve your home. After several episodes with the screen and a small child something had to be done. It wasn't long until the new screen door arrived. It was brilliant white with a screen and a window at the top. These were able to be opened and slid down for the option of either a breeze without bugs via the screen or a window with no breeze. The lower half was white metal (probably aluminum) it had this x that filled a box covering the enitre surface of the bottom half. Dad barked at mom for tools as we played in the yard with our St Bernard puppy (now the size of a small horse). After what seemed like an eternity, the family was gathered around to look at the award winning door. We were awe struck. This must be the best door on the whole street. Sears had given us the tool to sweep the neighborhood contest for the rest of the year. But wait, dad had an idea. Lets paint it. With the utmost care and dilligence. My dad, king of 23rd st. Put on his painters cap. He got out the white paint and the black paint and started working on the masterpiece. Of course, highlight the x by painting it black. This would match the trim. This had to lock up the competition. Surely if anyone drove by our home and saw the door, they would realize they could buy the same one at Sears. No one would ever think to customize it with paint. That was genious. This extra polish might even be so great that the neigborhood committe would overlook the new path that our small pony had now made all around the interior of the Sears fence. They might also overlook the other pieces of destruction a chewing dog likes to leave in its path. Our parents had just sealed our permanent position as the "permanent leaders of the 23rd st yard care society". They would probably stop the competition because we were so far in advance of all the other folks. After all it wouldn't be fair to let us win everymonth. With dads job done, he went in for a nap to prepare for his evening work.



The four of us kids played in the yard chasing the dog, letting the dog chase us. We never really stopped to appreciate the extra details in the paint or the glowing effect the door had on the home. We put Kevin on the dog then we ran. The dog would chase us and knock us down. The dog never tired of the game. The children did. After what must have been hours of relentlessly running from the dog, I ran as fast as I could to the safety at the front of the house. I saw the dog coming, so I stepped with my back to the front screen door. The one my father and mother had hung all of their hopes and dreams on. The one that would dictate our position in 23rd st heirarchy for years to come. The dog would stop. He would never run straight into me. That wouldn't be plausible. Suddenly, with a burst of last minute gusto. As I see it now the dog acted like we were in Pampalona at the running of the bulls. The charge was direct and deliberate. With reckless abandon he ran straight at me never hitting the doggie brakes and without a thought for the consequences.

The metal x to the screen door now lay beneath my bottom on the living room floor. The dog, happy that it finally caught me licked my face for approval. I don't think I was giggling if I was it was probably fear. My mind has blocked out the punishment. I know that my memories of this doggie dissapeared after this event. I keep flashing back to the dented screen door. I am not sure how long it took to replace it. The damaged door seems to have remained for a while. The doggie memories from this point forward move to much smaller dogs with shorter legs. If we had know what our future would hold, we might have invested in dogs that could run much faster.......