My mother told this story: when I was about 4 years old, we lived in a lumber camp near Kalispell, Montana.
Mother and I were the only females in camp and the camp dog was very wary of us, avoiding me like the plague. However, it seems he/she did keep an eye on me because one day I wandered off and became stranded on a log stretched across the gully used for the camp dump. There was a bear rummaging around in the garbage and if I had fallen off the log, I would have made a tasty morsel of fresh meat for it. The dog appeared in camp, barking hysterically and racing around to any people she saw, then led them to where I was stranded. I was rescued and the dog went back to ignoring me completely.
Maybe that's what started my love for dogs.
I've had big dogs, little dogs, Champion show dogs, nondescript mutts
with undiscernible origins. I've never had a bad dog. All the stupid
mistakes that can be made with dogs, I've made. Dogs have made me laugh,
made me cry, made me angry, frustrated me and sometimes made me question
why I have to have them around. (Sounds a lot like men, doesn't it?)
Christmas with Angel, Kababah, Lacey and Tye
This portion of my web site is dedicated to all my past and present animal friends.
