Posted tagged ‘Old Yeller’

”Some of my best leading men have been dogs and horses.”

August 1, 2025

We didn’t get the thunder, but we got the rain. The storm started around 1:30. Henry ran out before bedtime, but Nala went out and turned right around. The rain got heavy quickly. The night was chilly, a shut your windows sort of night.

This morning is damp and cold. It is only 64° and won’t get much higher. The day is dark. The sky is all clouds, but no rain is predicted, just an ugly day.

When I was really young, my mother read Golden Books to me. My favorite was Henny Penny, and I demanded she read it to me all the time. I loved all the rhyming names like Turkey Lurky, Goosey Loosey and the villain, Foxy Loxy. Poor Henny believed the sky was falling when an acorn hit her on the head. She told all the other animals who got frightened so they followed her to tell the king. Now, I hadn’t read this book in years, but one Christmas my mother put a copy of it in my stocking. I read it with glee until the ending. I had forgotten the ending, purposely I think. At the end, the animals follow Foxy Loxy to his lair. He eats them all except for Henny Penny. She escapes. I don’t know what attracted me to this story. It can’t be the tragic ending. I’m thinking it’s the rhymes.

My dogs are having their morning naps. Each is sleeping on one side of the couch. I am in the middle. I remember Lassie Come Home. It was the very first Sunday movie. Lassie is sold. His poor family needed the money. Joe, who loved Lassie, was inconsolable. Lassie is taken hundreds of miles away to Scotland to stop her from escaping to go home. She escapes anyway but with help. Lassie survives a violent storm and dog catchers but makes it home. Old Yeller made me cry, probably still would, but I don’t choose to watch it. Many movie goers won’t watch a movie if a dog dies. People can die, just not dogs. I remember the movie Volcano. The dog made it. Grandma died. A website called Doggone will tell you if a dog dies in a movie. It gets a lot of traffic.

My dance card is empty until Monday. I get to loll around the house and eat bonbons, yes on the lolling but not really on the bonbons though I wish it were so.

“Always end the name of your child with a vowel, so that when you yell the name will carry.”

March 3, 2014

It was a put a mirror under her nose to see if she is breathing sort of morning. I woke up at 8 and decided I didn’t want to get up so I went right back to bed. Around 10:30 I finally got up, had time for one cup of coffee and one newspaper then got dressed as Gracie had her senior dog check-up at noon. She loves going to the vets. She is so active the vet said without the gray around her muzzle she would have guessed Gracie was far younger than eight. Because Gracie gets a little excited, they take her out back for her shots, blood drawing and nail cutting. Strangely enough, she is quiet while everything is being done to her. She weighs exactly the same as she did 6 months ago during her last senior dog physical. The vet said she seems great. Right now she is sleeping on the couch and resting from her ordeal.

When I was a kid, we had a boxer named Duke. He never had yearly check-ups. I think he only got rabies shots, but I can’t attest to that as I don’t remember. I’m just assuming. After Old Yeller I think all the dogs got rabies shots. Duke was a fighter. During one fight, a massive dog tore Duke around the neck. My dad said time would heal it. My mother sneaked Duke to the vets where he got shots and the wound taken care of. In those days my dad was away all week as he had been transferred, and we were waiting for school to end before we moved. He was home only on weekends. When he saw Duke and how well the wound was healing, he made mention of I told you so to anyone who would listen. We had been sworn to secrecy so we just nodded and let him think he had been right.

We lived by the motto that what my father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. My mother was usually a co-conspirator. We could tell her anything, and she’d pick and choose what to tell my father. It made life so much easier. We also learned how to look repentant when he yelled. Most times we were just blocking him out and nodding our heads as he yelled at us for whatever, but we always looked sorry and a bit sheepish. The four of us perfected that look. He never figured it out.