Sunday, April 28, 2013
A ten year old boy, who lived down the street from us, rang our doorbell. Lucy answered the bell, and the little boy asked if he could see our dog.
About that time, Sarge, our Australian Shepherd walked into view. The boy said, “Yes, you are the guilty one. Two of them look just like you!” The boy owned a golden retriever who had just had a litter of puppies.
Later we went down to see them and all the puppies were rolling and tumbling in play, except one. (more…)
A boy and his dog. A simple phrase that conjures Norman Rockwell paintings of The Good Old Days.
A boy throwing a stick and his dog fetching it. A boy teaching his dog to shake hands. A boy and his dog asleep huddled together on the back seat of a car on a long trip.
Bradford and I were taking a walk out in the county near Gainesville. By chance we met a farmer (more…)
Sarge came to us as a fuzzy little Australian Shepherd puppy that was classified as a blue merle. He was mostly black with white on his chest and feet and always had a happy demeanor. Sarge always made an impression on people and once people had met him, they would always ask “How’s Sarge?” or “Where’s Sarge?” (more…)