Critters For Boomers

So here I sit at the holiday season with the urge to write about critters.  Yep,  that’s what I said, ‘Critters.”  This precious family that I have met recently on Face book has inspired me to write about critters with a big smile on my face.

I loved critters as a child.  One time sitting in a little country church listening to the preacher preach on fire and brimstone as I fanned myself with one of those little paper fans I gazed out the window.  Now you know I was just a youngster.  I was looking at cows in the field.  One cow got on the other one.  Now I wasn’t to smart on what they were really doing so I was very amazed.  Now should I have written that or not?  Oh well, it is part of my critter stories.

Then at around 8 years old my hero older brother brought me the cutest little puppy from Florida.  I loved that dog so much.  Now mind you, I was from the country.  Mom said no way will this dog be in the house but my Daddy took a liking to Buster and in the house he got to stay.  Then came the day I was to marry.  Daddy said OK but Buster stays here.  Now mind you, I was only 17 and it didn’t matter because I was marrying my childhood sweetheart and moving to the big city.

Now I am here to tell you, I put some hubby’s through some critter situations.  My first little dog was Tiny Dog.  A big portrait hung in the living room of him.  Oh my, that is critter love.  Then there was George Henry, the standard poodle that thought he was a hound dog.  Then dogs and hubby were gone.

The next hubby liked German Shepard’s but I did not much care for not being able to get in my back yard.  The dog did not like me.  Then came the Alaskan malamute.  He dug a hole in the back yard big enough to bury a house.  Oh, I almost forgot the toy poodle that hubby #2 didn’t like but we hung strong.

Now freedom at last.  No hubby’s but the dogs went on. There was Shotzie the schnauzer who was smart as a tack.  Then the homeless fellow that had a cherry eye that my daughter and I got fixed.  Later hubby #2 moved out of state and left us with Kissy.  Now that story is too long to write.

Then there was a brief encounter with hubby #3.  I picked up 2 more dogs on our honeymoon.  TC and Spanky were their names.  A lady was going to put them down and I just couldn’t let that happen.

Freedom again and no hubby just me, TC and Spanky.  Well the good Lord wanted them so along came Arther the shiatsu another dog that needed love but Arthur needed a play mate so to the shelter I went.  There I picked up Babybean.  Now if that was not enough, I wanted a large dog so back to the shelter where I got Brody, such a sweet soul he was.

Then life took me to another state where my dogs and I found a new home.  Fortunately my friend was a dog lover also.  So now here we are with Reggie the poodle and  Megan. I started a Dog sitting business called, “Grannie Annies’s Doggie Motel.”  It was then the little shih tzu Precious was added to the family.  Now how could I have possibly passed that sweet little thing up in the window.  Now you might say that I was and still am a little dog crazy and you are probably right!

So now that I am back in St. Louis there is just me and my little dog Sweetie a Wes tie.  I just happened to stop at the pound and she was due to be put down.  No way, I say!  So there you have it folks, my boomer years with my dogs and I left out a few.   So today I just enjoyed a new Face book friend tagging me with their new little puppy delight.  Oh what joy at the holiday season!  You might say though, I might be a little wiser though because I am NOT heading to the pound to get another.  Instead, I am going to continue enjoying my little Sweetie and meet the wonderful family from Face book and play with their dogs.  You might say, Every great man needs a dog, but in my case it was this boomer just has to have the love of a fluffy little four legged friend!

Originally posted 2010-12-21 02:12:05.

Author: Robert Fowler

Robert Fowler is President of Retirement Media Inc. Check out Robert's blog at View all posts by Robert Fowler

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