I suspect that when some of you saw the title to this article, your thought was, “no, not again, writing about the Georgia Bulldogs - Herb St. John, Herschel Walker, Matthew Stafford, Ray Goff and that crowd”. Actually, this assumption is not right.
What it’s about is that domestic mammal closely related to the wolf, the canine, the dog. Perhaps Harry Truman said it best: “If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog”. This article is about man’s best friend, the dog.
My first dog was a Chow, Blackie. Blackie was black, and despite the general reputation of Chows, was a gentle and sweet dog. As is common to the breed, she (he?) had a blue-black tongue and a black-lined mouth. I was taken with the color of Blackie’s tongue and mouth and was familiar with it as she licked me, often. Blackie started off in Perry, but was soon removed to rural Washington County and to the home of my Walker Grandparents. She (he?) seemed content there, and we played together, during my many visits and until her death, which was a sad occasion for me.
Yes, I know that “Blackie” was a pretty simple name, but as you will see, we got better at naming as time went on.
Before I get to other dogs owned by our family or me, let me mention Papa’s little feist dog. His name was Fritzie (is that a male or female name?). I don’t remember much about Fritzie, except his unique name and his always following Papa, right at his heels, wherever he went. Still, Fritzie made enough of an impression on this little boy that I felt compelled to mention his name.
We had a dog when we lived on Swift Street named Beau Winkle. At least, I thought it was Beau Winkle. Janice thought it was Bo Winkle. I guess it depends on whether your inspiration for the name came from Paris, France or Columbia, Alabama. Given Beau’s conduct, I believe Janice was right. She was right. It was Bo. Bo was always acting like he would bite someone - the mailman, milkman, friends, strangers, etc. He would bark loudly as he raced by as he nipped at heels. It was embarrassing. It was scary. Definitely, it was Bo Winkle. We got rid of this “red-neck” dog.
One of the best dogs we ever had was named Governor. Alan Stone named this beautiful Golden Retriever and gave him to us. We loved Governor. Governor loved us. Unfortunately, Governor also loved to chase the UPS truck. Governor got too close to the truck. That was the end of Governor.
It kind’a reminded me of my one-time fleeting aspiration to be a Governor. After Governor was killed, Mrs. Jean Nation gave us a black dog named Georgia. Georgia was a great dog - we still missed Governor, but Georgia took away some of the pain of losing Governor. Georgia died of old age.
Then there was Tux (mostly black with white on her neck, thus Tux). As a puppy, Tux was ‘put-out’ on the side of the road and left to starve. It’s a really sorry human that will do this! Lucky for Tux (and she was definitely a female and was evidenced by several litters of puppies), we were at the farm that day. We fed her.
Our neighbor across the road, Keith Felder, also fed her when we were not there. She had two homes and two masters, but, psychologically, this didn’t seem to affect her. Tux was one smart, cunning dog - a survivor. We loved Tux. Unfortunately, she crossed the road once too often and was killed by a vehicle. We were sad. Tux was one of the best dogs we ever had.
Now, we have Hershey. Most people think she’s a chocolate lab. Not so. She’s a cross between a lab and a Golden Retriever. Hershey is the sweetest dog in America. She is the polar opposite of Bo Winkle. I have never seen Hershey even growl at anyone - not even another dog (now, our ducks at the farm, that’s another story). I take Hershey to ride in the back of the pickup several days a week. She loves to get in the pond. She also likes pig’s ears and fish food. Hershey is a great dog and much loved.
I was with Buster and Chuck Byrd last week. Buster said, “everyone has a dog story,” and proceeded to tell one. It’s worth repeating, so here it is as told by Garland T. Byrd, Jr. (Buster):
“Daddy wasn’t much on any animals that you couldn’t ride or couldn’t pull something or ones that you couldn’t eat. But, he finally consented for Chuck and me to get a dog, a beagle hound, named Sam.
“He told us that we each owned a half-interest in the dog. I was about 10 years old and Chuck was about 5. We were specifically instructed not to bring the dog into our brand-new house, which we had lived in for about three or four months and which had new wall to wall carpet.
“Daddy and Mother went off and we took the dog inside. At just about the time Daddy returned home and came in the door, the dog made a big deposit in the middle of the new carpet. Immediately, 5-year old Chuck said to Daddy, ‘look what Buster’s half of the dog did to the carpet’. That’s when I realized that Chuck was going to be a lawyer!”
I can’t top Buster’s story, so I’ll stop with a final salute to some good dogs I have known - dogs who have enriched my life. Blackie, Fritzie, Governor, Tux, Georgia, Hershey, and even Bo Winkle have given much enjoyment and much love. Go, you hairy dogs.
