Probably like most of you, we have had ( or still do ) several pets in our lives. What is ironic, I can still remember all of my dog’s names, but have trouble remembering some of my kin folks. Hmmmm!!! maybe there is a reason I do not want to remember ALL of my kin folks ( just saying).
Brownie was my first dog. Did he come with luggage, of course. In my small town a dog did not need a collar with any I.D. or chip ( like a chip existed then). The neighbors knew that dog is so and so’s dog. The dogs also knew which neighbors offered bones, cornbread, or any form of leftovers. ( side note-Google hushpuppies and see how the name came to be ). As Elmer, the town poet would say, ” that dog would eat the end off a Southbound train going North”. For the record, Random House Publishers never did beat down Elmer’s door to publish his works.
Speaking of train’s, that is how Brownie came into our lives. Many years ago train engines would give off steam. Brownie happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The hot steam from the train scalded his right side taking the hair with it. As fate would have it, Brownie found refuge under a small bridge leading to our home. As I crossed the bridge one day, I heard a whimper. Being ” curious Joe ” suddenly I was eyeball to eyeball with a medium sized, ribs showing, sad eyed dog.
My mom was a dog lover as long as it belonged to someone else. Coaxing Brownie home, my sisters threw me under the bus as soon as mom appeared. ” Mom he has a dog and it is half dead with it’s hair missing from the right side”. Mom’s laser brown’s settled on me. I’m thinking here comes the 18th. commandment, and it did. ” Do not feed that dog. If you do it will not leave”. Mom’s 18th. said one thing but I knew her heart was saying something else. For some mysterious happening Brownie got fed. Maybe it was the lard ( for the younger followers, lard is today’s cooking oil) used for cooking everything, but Brownie got healthy, his hair grew back slowly and I had a buddy.
Everywhere I went Brownie went with me. I learned to swim at the Butler Mill Hole pond near our home. When I had the confidence to jump in water over my head finally struggling to reach the bank, Brownie was right beside me shaking the water off his back.
Brownie was with us for fourteen years, finally passing of old age. When he passed, my sisters and I gave him a proper burial with scriptures and a verse of ” Shall We Gather At The River”. Brownie had become the four legged family that we all loved. With tears in our eyes as we approached our back porch, mom met us. With tears in her eyes she said, ” If another stray dog comes here, do not feed it. If you do it will not leave”.
Be safe.
Joe's Bakers Dozen 