This is the first post in a series about me, my dogs, and everything I’ve learned from them. I am smarter, and a much better person because of them. (I wish I was as cool as they think I am. HA) These posts are especially appropriate because I just found out I’m allergic to dogs. Not that I intend to do anything differently, of course, except spend the next few years getting shots. 😀

This is me and our dog Skippy when I was about two.

Skippy is the first dog I ever knew, and one of only two purebreds I’ve ever lived with. He was a beautiful English Shepherd.

He was never vaccinated or neutered, lived outside (except in our basement when it was cold outside), and ate nothing but table scraps.

And he lived to be about 18 or 19 years old. Go figure.

I grew up as an only child. (I wasn’t an only child, mind you.)

I had older brothers and a sister. But I was an accident (my mom was sure she had cancer), so I came along much later after my siblings. In fact, they were all pretty much in high school when I was born.

Eventually I had nephews around, but much of my early years was spent with my barnyard friends, since we lived on a farm way out in the boonies.

I had a pet pig named Curly, and chickens, and bottle calves to play with.

In fact, I spent so much time with the chickens that one of my mom’s friends became concerned. But that’s another story for another day. 😉

I suppose I learned to be resourceful spending so much time by myself.

Skippy was my buddy.

Skippy taught me how what a good friend, and good company, a dog could be. He and I hung out together, went on picnics with Miracle Whip sandwiches out in the pasture, and explored. If my mother wondered where I was (or any of my siblings when they were younger) she called Skippy.

He was a great dog and a terrific friend, and although I don’t have many pictures of him, I have lots of great memories. 🙂