Dogs I Have Knowned
The other day I was trying to remember all the dogs I’ve ever owned. The first was Ella , short for “Cinderella,” a medium-sized black mix who barked incessantly. This was back in the era when a dog stayed outside, chained to her doghouse, and that was where she lived. No one thought of it as a cruel arrangement. But, as I s ay, she was a nonstop barker. In fact, one of the first phrases my little brother Eric learned to say—shouting at her from the kitchen window—was, “Ella! Be kawock!” Which was his version of what he heard other family members shouting from the same location: “Ella! Be quiet!” We never bonded in any way (Ella and me, not Eric and me), and one day she was gone. This was also back in the era when you could call the dog catcher to remove your canine. Is that what happened to her? I don’t know, but I hope her next owner didn’t keep her chained to a doghouse. Our next dog was Missy . She was about the size of a chihuahua—no doubt she had some chihuahua blood mixed in
