Dogs that I have known

These are the ten most influential dogs in my life, in chronological order.

1. Mitzi. She was my parents' pomeranian. Mitzi never got over that whole "Tommy taking the spotlight" thing from her. As such, she never cared for me much, and was always trying to bite my fingers and face. I didn't care much for her, either.

2. Abbadog. Abbadog was a mutt. But he was a good dog. Named when I was toddler after my favorite band. I don't remember Abbadog very much.

3. Charmin. She was my grandparents' poodle. Come to think of it, Charmin never cared much for me, either. Charmin lived to be very old. And very mean.

4. Tramp. Tramp was a mixed-breed who liked to explore, so he was perhaps the most aptly named dog I've ever known. Tramp belonged to Nicole, the girl who lived across the street (who got offended when I would say Dammit). Tramp and I played ball quite a bit, and we'd go "squirrel hunting," in which we'd walk around in the field behind our house carrying large sticks. Tramp was a good dog. I don't remember what happened to Tramp.

5. Ted. Ted was Samoyan (I don't know how to spell it). I don't remember too much about Ted, except that he was an exceptional tug-of-war player, and that he got hit by a car and survived. He ate everything. My mom told me a story about how Dad was planting potatoes in the garden, and Ted was going behind him, digging the potatoes up and eating them. Sadly, Ted probably met his end because of something he ate. Mom thinks he may have eaten an aluminum planting tray that she had been using.

6. Sue Lee/Suzie. An aunt's dog. Possibly two dogs, I'm not sure. Very little. Pekinese. Chased me. Very scary.

7. Cricket. My grandparents' dog after Charmin died. Another pomeranian. Another dog that ate everything. Dollars. Cigarettes. Newspapers. Loved those little doggie treats that looked like hamburger patties. Didn't like the Ronald McDonald doll with the whistle that I had. Also didn't much care for our basement...in fact few dogs like our basement...I've got a couple of ghost stories to share later on...dogs are a little more sensitive to such things.

8. Molly G. Molly was a really good dog. Golden Retriever. We got Molly when we moved out to the cabin on the hill. She was about a year old. Molly's favorite things were dry dog food with a little water poured on it, chasing the occasional cat, and rolling in cow manure. Also hated the water hose. Molly died about three years ago. Dad called me the morning they found her. It was one of the worst days of my life--I got mad at Garrett at work, and when I explained why, he understood. Her hips pained her at the end. I miss Molly.

9. Sally. Sally's one of my parents' current dogs. Sally's got a lot of black lab in her, but she's got a little something else, and they found her running along the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. They asked around and ran ads in the newspaper and eventually decided she was dumped on the side of the road. She's probably the offspring of somebody's hunting dog that got away from them. Sally's probably the smartest dog I've ever known. She's also very polite (won't bark or beg...she'll wait patiently for whatever she's needing). She's a little possessive. She doesn't like other animals (dogs, cats, people, and elephants, I would assume as well) getting close to her food. She's a little jealous of Maximus, as well. Sally was good at fetch. But it's a little beneath her now. Sally is a very good dog. And she has a pretty belly, and needs to be told so regularly.

10. Maximus. (Max for short). Max is a pug. Max is a guilt trip machine. He'll stretch out on the floor and roll those giant eyes at you. He has two speeds: stopped and 100 miles an hour. He has about 14 balls, dog toys or stuffed animals that are "his," and are scattered about the living room in various degrees of disarray at any given time. But what he wants most is an empty box or a bag or a hickory nut from outside, and anything else you've told him not to touch. He's a good boy, but he also has to be the center of attention, and that need leads him astray, occasionally. He farts more than any other dog I've ever known. Max likes everybody.

Honorable Mention:

Dawsey and Dawsey, Jr., the german shepherds owned by the Greens.

Patch, a big shaggy sheepdog owned by Tregg Kirkland, who once ate a Frito we'd dropped in a pile of cow manure (Patch, not Tregg.)

Unidentified white dog--belonged to a neighbor in Suburban Hills. Bit me while riding my bike. Didn't care for it.

Franz, a big german shepherd owned by my Uncle Charles.

Sasha, a neighbor's Dalmatian. Good dog, but a little deaf.

Rex, a neighbor's Doberman. Sally's friend. He looked like the Devil.

Smokey, a neighbor's Chocolate Lab. Very Big dog. Will eat Sally's food, if Sally's not around. He craps as big as me.

Doofus, who's not a dog, but a cat of my parents' who's currently banished outside for spraying in the house. I spent an entire summer trying to convince him that he's a dog...any time he tried to eat out of the cat's bowl moving him to the dog's dish; calling him dog, saying "good dog"; trying to make him fetch. My attempts were unsuccessful.

That's the list. Don't know why I wrote it. Maybe because Max and Sally were both right at my feet when I started trying to make up another list of silly town names.

I don't remember much about Abbadog, but since I named him, I figured he should rate.

My eyes teared up when I wrote about Molly.

But Max and Sally are good dogs. So it's all good.