Soon I brought home Fluffy who was 3 months old when he came to live with us - My Dad for once overruled my mother when I begged for him!
Fluffy was part golden retriever & something else that was never confirmed, although the Vet though maybe cocker spaniel. He was simply the greatest dog that ever graced my life.
Blonde silky coat not real long or not too short, big ole soul searching brown eyes, with the flume tail, a faint white crest on his chest and those curly haired floppy ears he was most handsome!
– his first visit to the vet my mother informed the Vet “Fluffy is female” which in turn made the Vet ask my mother how many children did she have – a quick reply was so many girls and so many boys – the Vet then informed Mom she should know that boys have a penis and Fluffy was not a girl but a boy. Mom just took the word of an 8 year old child that Fluffy was a girl. Her reply to the Vet is classic “I didn’t Look under the Tail” while turning red faced.
My father and I sorted fibbed when we stated Fluffy was a girl, since he was the one I had picked out from the litter even though we were told no Boy dogs cause they ‘mark’ their territory and do all sorts of bad stuff. He had taken my heart at two months old and the owner of the litter held him for me till he was old enough to leave his mother. When Dad and I went to bring Fluffy home, only he and his brother remained (who was also promised to another child). We really had no choice since I couldn’t now pick out a female.
So we brought Fluffy home, knotted our heads that Fluffy was female and life began with my first dog.
Fluffy although male turned out to have the patience of a saint, heart of female, and took over duties as nursemaid to many of the little critters that forever where running through my life. Many a time he would gather up my cat kittens and watch over them as if they were his very own.
With the aid of my brothers and sisters we taught Fluffy circus tricks. He could jump through hula hoops, jump from dog house to wagon, he could pull the wagon and he could dance on two legs and twirl.
Fluffy lived just short of his 15th year.
One day knowing his time was close, he simply walked out of the yard after one of the neighborhood kids has left the gate open never to return.
We looked high and low, called all the local shelters; anyplace in which we could think of in those days that a dog may be taken.
I never recovered him or his body.
I still like to think even after 30 years that he is just chasing after a wild and sexy dark haired poodle that caught his attention.
I'm so bad! I haven't blogged for over 2 months. But that is what happens when you are facing surgery, have the major surgery and recover from surgery.
