Pets & Animals

I never had a dog. That is, I never had a dog until I had Prince.

My sister and I, along with my mother, lived with my grandparents. One day after school, I came home with a stray dog that had been found by a friend of my sister. She had not been able to find the owner and offered to let me have the dog. Grandma B just didn’t like dogs (any dog). So there was no chance she was going to allow me to keep my new found friend.

That night I fed my new friend and put him on a chain or leash in a sheltered area near our garage. The next day I had to find another home for him. He couldn’t stay with us. I was very sad. I had already fallen in love with my new friend. He was a beautiful dog, black all over, except for a white triangle on his throat and three white paws. He looked a little like a collie, a little like a chow, to me just a beautiful dog. I went to bed that night excited that I had a dog, but sorry that I could not keep him.

The next morning I got up thinking about my dog. When I went outside to see him and feed him I noticed something tied around his neck. I thought to myself, "What is that on him. It wasn’t there last night." When I went over to the dog and looked to see what was tied around his neck, I found a note. It read, " Grandma B said you could keep me."

I jumped with joy and excitement. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to have a dog of my own.

My dog, Prince, became an important part of my life. He was there when I went to school and when I came home. Well, that is, most of the time. Sometimes he would go off for two or three days and I would think he might be dead or injured and could not return. But, he always came back, looking like he was on his last leg, worn out. I never knew where he went or why he would stay away.

Sometimes I would tie him to my wagon and try to get him to pull me like a horse drawn carriage. It never did work very well, but Prince never complained. He did have one very bad habit. He chased cars. Whenever a car would pass the house, he would make a run for the car, barking as he went. He would get up close to the wheels and chase the car until it got far down the street from our house. We were afraid a car might hit him. I believe he did get hit once or twice, but he always survived.

I guess the family finally got tired of putting up with a dog because they convinced me to let Prince go to live with a man on a farm, Mr. Gozie. Mr. Gozie was an older man who rode his bicycle wherever he went around town. One night however, he was hit by a car and was permanently disabled and could not work, so he moved out to a farm about 10 miles away and sort of retired. He was a nice man.

I missed my Prince, but I was convinced he would have a better life out there, so I went along with the deal. I don’t suppose I really had much choice. Prince would have a "better life, with a nice man in the country". If he stayed with us he might even be killed by a car, the way he went after every car he saw.

Several months later my other grandma (grandma C) asked if I would like to ride out to Mr. Gozie’s farm to visit him and to see Prince. I was delighted and excited. I wondered if Prince would still know me. "Would he be excited too?"

When we got there, Mr. Gozie invited us to come in the house. My grandparents and Mr. Gozie began talking about all that grownup stuff. I just sat there waiting and watching for Prince, but nothing was said. I wondered, "where is Prince. Why hasn’t Mr. Gozie said anything about him?

Finally, after about 30 minutes my Grandma C told Mr. Gozie that I had come out to see Prince. In a rather nonchalant manner Mr. Gozie explained that Prince had been killing his chickens and so he had taken Prince out on the highway somewhere and let him go.

I thought, "Out on the highway and let him go. How could you do that? Prince was my dog. Why didn’t you tell me? I know Prince would not kill your chickens."

I never forgot Prince. He was my friend. I’m glad Grandma B let me keep him….for a while.