First Dog

I was visiting my parent's and I started looking through their albums for a picture of a dog show I had with my friends when I was 9 or 10.  I didn't find those pictures, but I did find a picture of my very first dog.

It's hard to take a picture of a picture (especially of an old picture!), but that is me being knocked over by Zipper and my Dad sweeping the snow.  I guess he didn't think there wasn't enough snow to need the shovel!

This picture pretty much sums up my relationship with Zipper.  The first day I met her - she knocked me over and I cut my hand open.  But I loved dogs and even though she bit me, knocked me over, jumped on me, wrestled me to the ground and bruised me with her tail - I wasn't going to complain!  I finally had a dog!

  I was 5 and she was 50 lbs of muscle. 

The day we brought her home, I proudly walked up and down our street for an hour hoping that someone would ask me about my new puppy.   No one did, but I was sure they were all impressed that I finally had a dog. 

Unfortunately, she ran away....a lot.  My parent's told me that she ran away one day and they couldn't find her.  Maybe that's true, but they also told me that my pet chickens ran away when we were on vacation.  Years later my Mom accidentally told me that they had arranged for someone to come and "process" the chickens while we were away from home.  "But we didn't eat them!, she said.  Oh, that makes it so much better Mom!  LOL!!