Member-only story
Crazy, Stupid, Dog Love
Hooked on canine
I was born in 1956, the youngest of five kids. My first memories of my life include the family dog. His name was Bozo.
A 1956 dog was a different animal than a 2019 dog. There were exceptions though. I know this because the people who lived next door to us had pure bred Pugs. Their Pugs made them money by producing litters of expensive puppies. These dogs were doted on, slept inside, probably had fresh water daily.
I could see some of the Pug’s pampered lives through the holes in the chain link fence that separated our yards. This family had the only yard with a fence. The fence was to keep their dogs safe. Pretty much every other family in the neighborhood had a dog but nobody else had a fence.
Bozo was a big orange mutt. At some point before I was born my brothers begged for a dog. My parents thought that caring for a dog would build their characters so my Dad, hearing of a litter of free puppies, brought Bozo home. My Mom made the stipulation that my brothers could keep the dog as long as it never set foot inside the house.
I remember once asking what kind of a dog Bozo was and was told he was a collie, meaning he shared genetics with Lassie. Truth is he was probably more border collie which meant he had a wild hair up his doggie ass.
