
Photo of myself in the same wheelbarrow with a now full-grown Sparky.
Sparky was a gift to me from my father on my 8th birthday: July 29, 1955. This was a year after our last dog, Kim, was killed by a car.
Sparky was six weeks old, born on June 17. I think I remember that because Pop’s birthday was July 17 and Mom and Pop’s aniversary was August 17. I think Pop chose Sparky because he had the same coloring as Kim: white with a black head and highlights of brown around he eyes. He also had a black spot on his back. Neutering male dogs was hardly ever done in those days, so naturally I spent a lot of time chasing after Sparky, just like I did chasing after Kim. Unlike Kim, however, Sparky would come eventually, but only when Mom called him. Although I loved Sparky like a brother, he was more of a mama’s dog. That’s probably also because Mom was better at feeding him. Read the rest of this entry »
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