Dogs of Childhood Past

The first dog I ever had was during the straight bangs and tights phase of the mid 1990s. He wasn't exactly my dog though. More or less he wandered into our yard and started eating my cat's food and decided to stay. Being the creative kid I was, I named my new Dalmatian friend Spot. 101 Dalmatians had just came out so I was thrilled with my luck. Unfortunately, it turned out that Spot wasn't all that great. His favorite activities were jumping and biting so I had to arm myself with a small tree branch while playing with him. Usually "playing" involved being drug around my yard by the hood. Poor Spot didn't last long and was taken to the pound by my mom within a week.

The first legit dog I had was Skippy, as far as dogs are concerned he was the bitches tits. I am the youngest kid in my family and at this stage I was the only one left with my parents. This wasn't so bad though, for my 11th birthday I got a golf cart. Skippy was the Chewbacca to my Han Solo if the golf cart was the Millennium Falcon, which it certainly felt like at the time.

Skippy also made a great co-agent for water gun-spy times in my back yard. I would have to say of all the things Skippy did that made him a complete legend the best had to be his relationship with the neighbor dog. Being a small fellow he had to be real clever. Our neighbors had a German Shepherd that was always on a leash by its house. Skippy went over there whenever he fancied a lady's company and had her trained to squat so he could reach. Honorable mention for great Skippy moments would have to be the time he climbed a 20 foot pine tree or when he nearly killed a mastiff.
Best. Dog. Ever.

Then there was Whiskey. Whiskey was the most pathetically amusing dog imaginable. We went to go get him shortly after poor Skip died. He wasn't exactly the best replacement Chewbacca although the resemblance to Chewy was uncanny. Skippy always knew when a tree branch was coming and would duck when riding on the golf cart with me. Whiskey on the other hand would just sit there with the same blank look as he got whipped in the face. Whiskey's low point probably came when I threw a blanket over him and watching his unsuccessful escape. After 5 minutes of not being able to find his way out he just plopped down and gave up, possibly on life as well. Despite his short comings Whiskey did indeed have some talents. Namely having the ability to jump over the fence separating him from the house to shit in my parents room only to jump back like nothing happened.