Pets

Jerry and I have a standard routine. He tells me to stick out my hand and shut my eyes. I ALWAYS say, "Is it a puppy?" Nothing would please me more than for it to be a puppy EVERY time. I would like multiple dogs at one time. Perhaps in the future. I agree with Will Rogers when he said, "If there are no dogs in heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went."

During our farm days, we were surrounded by animals--cows mostly, but we had a dog named Jake. We also had an assortment of farm cats. I remember Captain Midnight who ended up having kittens and probably needed to be renamed. I can't imagine that we carefully fostered out these pets when we left the farm. I imagine we just left them with the farm. These animals never came in the house. My mother was not that sort.

The next animal I remember was my little black cocker mix, Schwartzie (German for Blackie). He was given to me on the last day we lived in Malad by some friends of Dad, so he came in the car with us--yet again, something I don't imagine my mother had bargained for. Schwartzie was a perfect Arco dog, but he did go missing for a while. My father came home bearing him in the back of the pick-up one day where he'd found him out in the country wandering! Schwartzie was our straight man "Sacagawea" when I played Lewis and Clark with my friend, Gail. He was the perfect tagalong dog. I'm sure he went wherever I did. I don't remember a dog catcher or ordinances. He also liked to follow my father to his office. Sometimes I would go there to visit after school, and my dog would be under Dad's desk. I guess he had a choice at that time to stay or follow me home. He came trick or treating with me! Schwartzie was still just a puppy. He chewed and chewed. I remember coming home from church one day, and my dog had chewed a hole out of my new bike seat. I cried and cried as I hugged him. I knew he didn't know better, but I was so sad that he'd been a bad puppy.

When we moved to Montpelier, we took this dog along. I remember coaxing Mom to let him come in when it got so bitter cold. Schwartzie made it in as far as the landing on the downstairs stairs. This was acceptable because the area could be quartered off with doors. Then one summer when I was away at 4-H camp and my father was in Boise, apparently Schwartzie got lonely and wandered off. I never saw him again. But I sure looked for a long time. I think I must have had that dog for nearly four years.

(Tuxedo with his new owner)

I was also pro pets for my kids. I still "threaten" to put a puppy under everyone's Christmas tree. Chris was a great cat lover, so we had a series of cats over those years--Boop, Wuggie Norple, Tuxedo, Abby and her litter., and Puppy. There was another cat in New Jersey. Who? Thomas also got a cat for his birthday. Who? Snuffles?Cat care in New Jersey was interesting. Because of the climate we had to worry about and treat for fleas. I'm sure the kids can remember bathing kittens in the bathtub and all of the fleas that floated to the top. I also remember Chris just about coming home with a lab. Amidst the upheaval of that period, a dog would have been a challenge. But part of me was very vulnerable to his suggestion.

Abby was a Maine Coon. She was very beautiful and had cost the owners $400. We received her from friends at church, the Aylworths. She wasn't the sweetest cat, but she did have beautiful kittens. When we left New Jersey, I left $800 for Chris to ship our things to us. He ended up using the money to spay Abby. I was confused by that choice. Abby DID make it to Idaho somehow. Details are fuzzy. I gave her to one of my student friends, Vanessa. Abby came back to us once, and we took her back to Vanessa's which is actually THIS house! She ran away again for good.

Within months of moving into our own home in Montpelier, we bought a beagle puppy from our friends, the Wrights. Taggart came up with the name "Derby", and she seemed to like it! Derby was an indoor pet. She became a wonderful pet and was adored by all of us. When she got sprayed by a skunk we bathed her with tomato juice in the bathtub which she sprayed all over as she shook. She rode in the back window of the car. And wonder of wonders, my mother liked her! She said, "There's something about this little dog." SHE LET HER INTO HER HOUSE. I loved this little warm dog who burrowed under my covers and slept there by me all night. Derby was a free spirit and was known to stop football games across the street at the high school when she ran out onto the field! She also figured out how to find me in my classroom during the day. More than once I found her outside my classroom door! Fortunately for Derby, Mr. Homer and Jolene were both dog lovers. When she went into heat, it got challenging. One night she escaped and was being pursued by another dog. I grabbed some frozen meat from the freezer to try and lure her back in! I think Kevin came to the rescue that night.

Of course, Derby became the famous dog who set Mother Nature spinning when she adopted an orphaned couple of kittens and nursed them! She nursed Puppy for waaaaaaaaay too long. Then one Christmas morning we came home from church to find our thawing Christmas feast pork chops had been pushed off the counter by Puppy and eaten by Derby and Puppy. At that point I proposed another home for Puppy. I was met with opposition, but I pulled rank, and she was gone.

In spite of our ineptitude, we were successful TWICE in breeding Derby and reaping pure-bred AKC papered Beagle puppies! Shelly can take full credit for one of those times. I was away for a few weeks, and she was left to coordinate with the Crawfords to get the breeding done. I will never forget when my mother died. We had five unweaned puppies in a large refrigerator box in the kitchen. Every relative I had came to the house at some point. Sometimes timing is just bad.

That was a summer of sadness. Lana moved to Arizona. My mother died at the end of May. A month later Derby had apparently gotten into some anti-freeze. I was away in Ogden with one of the boys helping Aunt Norma get ready to move. When we got home I went immediately to Dr. Merrill's office where he had the body. He said he'd come and help me bury her. I left there and went directly to Robyn and Glay's crying uncontrollably. They were so wonderful and understanding. Glay said, "That's the problem. You always outlive a dog." But what a vet. He and the elder's quorum president whom someone must have called both came and dug a hole in the garden and buried Derby. We had a short ceremony. I looked behind my back for Derby for at least three months.

A month later the remaining puppy, Alfalfa, was attacked by another dog who came onto our property. The bigger dog picked him up in his mouth. The puppy started yelping. The vet in Soda showed me the x-ray--the puppy's backbone had been severed. Yet more tears for dogs as I put him to sleep. Unfortunately, the owners (Belnaps) of the aggressive dog chose to put her to sleep too. A summer of losses.

We had a brief chocolate lab that Bonnie had convinced me we needed. She traded me the puppy for log cleaning in her home. Unfortunately, when I was helping Aunt Norma again, Thomas let Chido (Japanese for brown) out and then fell asleep and didn't let him back in. The dog got killed on the highway. Someone also gave me an unruly Beagle puppy that had been tied up too much. I ended up finding her a great farm in the country with the help of Bishop Tolbert.

When Jerry and I got married I campaigned for six years to get a dog. We got Mugsy in Nebraska and kept him for thirteen years. We both loved him dearly. He somehow knew that he'd been rescued from a pound situation and had fallen into a VERY good situation, and he acted accordingly. I can't say enough good about this little dog. He is all over in my blog, so I won't write about him here. He died while we were in China and is buried in my English garden, not too many paces from where this picture was taken. I talk to him when I'm weeding out there. I've told him to send another dog our way. I hope he's working on it.