Our Dogs

41. Coco, Velvet, and Skipper

There were three family dogs during my childhood: Coco, Velvet, and Skipper. Coco was around when I was born and Skipper was there when I left and lived for sometime after that. I often wonder what the dogs think. You know, what do they think of us? I think you could say that we didn’t own any dogs. They owned us.

Coco was Nancy’s dog. I can only very vaguely remember him. I don’t think he liked me very much. He was around during my toddler years and I suspect I was too aggressive for him. Most of the time he steered clear of me. I don’t know if Coco died of old age or some kind of calamity. Whatever it was it was kept from me.

Our next dog was Velvet. Velvet, part cocker spaniel, was Loretta’s dog. Velvet had a great temperament and was a welcome visitor in spots all over town. In those days dogs had free roam of the community…a practice that might reduce the rodent and deer population in urban areas now. My mother would say that, “Velvet is making his rounds.” It did, indeed, seem that there was a pattern to the way he circulated threw the neighborhood. He knew where he might find something to eat or a handout from a friendly neighbor.

Velvet loved children and so the school playground was a regular stop on those “rounds.” Velvet would move from one group of children to the next soaking up all of the petting and ear scratching he could get. He loved to be rubbed on the belly. He seemed to know when the recesses were and would wait for the kids to come out.

Velvet loved to go with Dad and I when we went arrowhead hunting and was really good at showing up wet and muddy when it was time to get in the car and go home. My Dad would keep a towel in the trunk just for that reason. If Velvet was really muddy, which happened often, he had to ride in the trunk all the way home. He knew the routine and would hop right in when he got to the car.

Velvet had a bad habit of following me about everywhere I would go. If I walked downtown to see my Dad at Hoaglin’s, Velvet had to wander along, too. I often would try walking back home and telling Velvet to stay but it didn’t usually work. It was a good thing that people in cars were careful because Velvet seemed oblivious to traffic and would wander across busy streets and sometimes stop in the middle to sniff some flattened road kill.

Stan Light, a local entrepreneur and junk dealer, lived in a house just up the hill from the swimming pool in Saunders Park. Velvet was drawn to the pool because of all the children there and followed me there often. Stan Light had two big Weimaraners, vicious territorial dogs. One fateful day Velvet followed me to the pool. I didn’t see Velvet again until I got home that day. Velvet was lying on the floor in the nook by the bathroom door. My father explained that Velvet had been badly mauled by the Weimaraners. They had been to Dr. Hunt, the vet, and he had done all he could. For hours we tried to comfort Velvet and finally mother sent us to bed.
It only seemed like it had been a few minutes and Mother called us back downstairs. Velvet had died. That night we buried Velvet in a spot under a red bud tree in the back yard.

Our next dog was a mostly Beagle, but part something else dog, we called Skipper. We brought Skipper home on May 5, 1960. Skipper was my dog, or rather, I was his. Skipper was like Velvet in many ways. He roamed freely all over the community but seemed to be a little more car savvy. Skipper appeared to look both ways before he crossed a street. I know you will think that is crazy but that dog would look both ways, wait on traffic if necessary, and then cross the street.

Skipper also had a sense of humor and had a visible smile on his face when he was happy. He loved to be outside and go arrowhead hunting with Dad and me. Dad often got upset with him because of his unique ability to get muddy no matter how dry it was or how far we were from any water source. Consequently, Skipper road home in the trunk many times. Then he had to have a bath before coming in the house.

Sometimes Skipper would nap and dream he was chasing rabbits. He would bark and wake himself up and we would all laugh. He would act a little embarrassed but laugh at himself, too. Skipper was a good dog. I miss him.