Dropped by or dropped in

Here was my mom’s view of pets.

People who had unwanted pets often brought them to our area to dump. That was a foolish thing to do as our neighbor had a cage in his yard. Anyone who wanted could put a cat or dog into it. That would have been much better than dumping.

One winter Younger Sister went to the garage and found a couple of newborn pups. The mother hadn’t even tried to make a nest. The rule at our house said all livestock belongs outside. Sometimes we broke the rule. This time mother and pups were moved to the basement. This arrangement suited everyone fine except Mother. She didn’t think much of it after a week or two of letting Mama Dog in and out. She wanted to oust the whole family. Daddy intervened. He said they had to stay until better weather. So they did.

Sister and Brother were out doing chores. They heard little noises under the northwest corn crib and came to Mother for help. With a hoe she pulled out a small puppy. The mother had hollowed out a little nest, but it was filled with water. Puppy was cold and whining for food. An inch or two of snow covered the ground.

Little Sister was sick. A sick child was usually bedded down on the sofa bed in the living room, so that’s where she was. A box was found and Little Pup was brought inside. Its box was set by the sofa. He kept Little Sister amused. Little Pup liked his nice warm box. He would not soil it. In the daytime Mother did not mind taking him outside. It was night duty she objected to. Once or twice every night Little Pup would whine and bark until he was taken out.

On one such excursion Mother discovered that Little Pup had worms. Then there was worry about Little Sister. Had she gotten them from Little Pup? Fortunately, no. The mother dog was seen a few times but we never knew why she abandoned her baby. How could she when he was so cute and so helpless!

* * *

When you’re a big yellow male collie dog you are abandoned and you just drop in. His first, middle and last names were MEAN. He roamed the area but seemed to be here or Fishers (the neighbor Bud Fishers) a lot. He would go into the garage and snarl at anyone who came near.

We called the neighbor (Doc Railing). He came over with leather gloves and his hook or whatever he used to catch strays. He tried a few times with no luck and said he had never seen such a mean dog. Next call was for the sheriff. He came and Mean Dog was in the old coal shed in our backyard. Sheriff asked if he could shoot it right in the building. Of course, of course. Anything to make the neighborhood safe again for the children.

Bang once, again. Bang again and again and again and again. Mean Dog had such a thick coat of hair, Sheriff had trouble getting him shot. Next question was in regards to burial for Mean Dog. Since he was on our property we were elected. Dad came home from school and found his work cut out for him. He did it without protest and the whole neighborhood could breathe easier once again.

* * *

When that old coal shed was built, it was connected to the rest of the house by sort of breezeway. It was a summer kitchen. By the time I first saw it, it had degenerated into a junk room. The breezeway had doors to the East and West. Also, there was a window on each side. The floor was in said disrepair in one corner.

A chipmunk could often be seen as one stepped out the kitchen door into the breezeway. That and the old summer kitchen were his territory. That chipmunk still has descendants living near our backdoor! He must like it very much as nothing makes them move away.

You kids remember the rest of the animal stories as well (or better) than I. It’s your turn to write.