Similar to my "Kelly"
I’m using the ’52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History’ series as an aid in beginning my personal history this year. See the entire challenge on my Examiner.com article at http://exm.nr/dOmi09. I create an article about this series each Monday. Click subscribe (at the top) if you’d like to get my articles automatically delivered to your email inbox, or click the RSS icon to read my posts via a feed reader. These weekly challenges are authored by Amy Coffin of the We Tree blog and hosted on the GeneaBloggers website.
Here is the beginning of my memories about pets:
My first pet was an adorable Cocker Spaniel named Puddy. He was given to me on Christmas morning when I was very small. Being a puppy and not housebroken, he proceeded to make a “puddle” in front of our heater, thus he received his name “Puddy”. I loved my new playmate. My remembrances are all wonderful. My parents, however, became very unhappy as the dog grew because in his love for me and with his playfulness, he would jump up and knock me over. My parents said he made me cry a lot.
One of the saddest days I can remember as a child was the day my dad told me that he and mom had decided to give Puddy away. He told me that one of the men at work was going to take good care of him, but my dog had to go. I didn’t like the news one bit, but adjusted to it. Then for some reason, the date of the dog’s departure kept getting put off, one day at a time. After about five days, I decided it wasn’t going to happen at all, then, wouldn’t you know it the next day, the dog was gone. I was heartbroken.
Over the years I’ve had many pets. I had lots of parakeets (Hop-along Cassidy, “Hoppie” for short, and Kelly were two I remember). Bless my mother’s heart, she couldn’t stand the sound of birds flapping their wings and would absolutely freak out if one got loose and would fly across the room. It wasn’t funny to her, but it was funny to me and dad (although my heart went out to her).
Once a sparrow got caught in a rosebush outside our kitchen window and was injured. My dad built a cage of wood and chicken wire, and we nursed it back to health. When we released it, it would come back to visit, then one day it was gone forever. Our hope was that it survived the neighborhood cats.
I also had goldfish and little mini turtles that didn’t have a very long lifespan. Sometimes my dad would catch baby frogs and act like he had money to give me, but would put a frog in my hand instead. (He was a BIG tease.) He even found a horned toad once. I was scared of it, but when I found out he gave it to a neighbor boy, I was sad. He retrieved it from him and let me care for it for awhile. It was a great conversation piece.
Ginger was a little Pomeranian whom I loved. I was probably 10 or 12 when mom and dad purchased her. My dad was a wonderful dog trainer. He’d spend hours teaching Ginger to sit, “speak”, roll over and play dead. When the world seemed bleak to me, I always knew my dog loved me!
There are other pets I had, but I’ll write more about them in my personal records. I do love the way that caring for animals has added to the love and respect I have for all living things. I have a lot of happy memories when I look back at the pets I’ve cared for and cherished.
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