Going to the Dogs!
My father was not a dog-lover. My mother loved farm dogs—those big, slurpy, dirty dogs that lived outside and always barked when anyone arrived on the scene. We children begged for a dog; Daddy was adamant. He would not get us a dog. His mother-in-law, my Grandmama Ralph, saw a way around the issue: she gave my younger brother Larry a puppy for his fifth birthday. My Granddaddy Ralph built a doghouse for him. Mission accomplished! What could Daddy say?
