I have a history with dogs that goes back to a skinny 10 year old kid living at 2046 Somerset Avenue in Columbus, Ga. My first pup’s name was Count Beno of Somerset, a terrific, fawn Boxer with the energy of Amern UE. We called him Beno and I loved that pup. He contracted sarcoptic mange, red mange they called it in those days, and we eventually lost him as a result of this scourge…..something today’s vets can usually handle easily.
Fast forward to 1973 and our acquisition of a great yellow Lab named Annalore Ezekial, or Zeke. He was mostly an outdoor dog, our house was small, but he was inside when it was too cold outside…..a frequent occurrence in Missouri in those days. We lost Zeke to cancer in Springfield not long after I was stationed there. Zeke was a bright fellow and loved people…..not unusual for Labs. Zeke was followed by Johnson’s Piney River Luke and Piney River Belle, two rambunctious German Shorthair pointers who knew their way around a bean field. These guys were gun dogs, pure and simple and an absolute joy on the hunt. We lost them to old age …….and I haven’t had a gun dog since. For us it has been a succession of Labs……and a Lab will be there when Sharon is busy arranging for 6 folks to carry me into church. We love ’em!Tazzy enjoying a “pupacino”
I should be so fortunate. Folks who don’t share their existence with a dog are missing one of the great pleasures in life. The devotion, unfailing loyalty and desire to please are attributes that humans have not consistently mastered. Perhaps dogs don’t reason exactly as we do, but one should never underestimate them. They honor their keepers by making them the very center of their being and willingly absorb the tribulations of life on behalf of their human partner. Dogs laugh a lot…….with their tails.Truman Abe Micah
We currently share our home with a 92 pound appetite disguised as a Lab who answers to Taz’m, a name we conjured up using the first letter in each of our previous Labs names, (T-Truman, A-Abe, Z-Zeke, M-Micah). You know you are suffering from some dread mental malady when you purchase dog colored carpet and a vehicle the dog will be comfortable in. Maybe a little off, but totally unapologetic. A very good friend of ours had a book made, “The Heartbeats at My Feet” a pictorial that chronicles our association with the aforementioned Labs, good boys and girls who were terrific companions. Cardinal baseball, a cup of coffee and a softly sleeping Lab at my feet. Not a dog, really, rather a miracle with paws.
We all have to be somewhere……….