Home » fatherhood » A boy and his dog

A boy and his dog


When Frankie comes to stay on weekends, our Fridays have always been kind of mellow. We usually watch a James Bond movie and he goes to bed. He loves to sit in the comfy recliner and chill out. Margarita has been into crawling into the chair with him lately.

A boy and his dog. I can remember being a kid and I had a hound dog that looked nearly the same as Margarita. We moved around a few times when we were growing up. Chicago to Atlanta, Atlanta to Minneapolis ,Minneapolis back to Chicago. We got our dog when we lived in Atlanta. She remained by my side until the day she died ( I was 15).

I can remember living in Minnesota and I was 8 years old and this kid lived down the street from me. He had this giant poodle, that doubled as an attack dog (no joke). And if the kid didn’t like you l, well he’d sick his dog on you. So all over the neighborhood there were kids being chased by this giant poodle. One day I managed to piss this kid off and he sent his dog after me. This dog chased me all the way to the last step of the front of my house were I looked up and there was my mom and my dog. I looked at my hound dog and smiled . My mom opened the door. You heard this bark that started on on the tip of her tail. The poodle froze and then looked at my dog,and like all cowards ran.  My dog took off after the poodle. The poodle nor his owner never bothered anyone again.

I remember being in junior high and nothing seemed to go right for me. I felt scared and all alone in those days. I wanted to run away. And then I looked at my dog and wondered who would take care of her if I was gone. I did not have an answer, so I stayed.

My dog got sick with cancer when I was going into my sophomore year in high school. My mom told my sister and I that they were going to keep the dog alive for as long as they could, when she started to suffer,  they were going to put her down. And she made it to February and my dog couldn’t do it anymore . It was a Tuesday and my mom said it was time to say goodbye. My sister and I were in tears.  And as my mom was walking my dog out the door one last time , my dog looked back with just that look that said “thank you”

Margarita is going to be 8 years old this year, she’s not going to see Frankie go to high school. Yet there is still time to create plenty of memories together. When you are a boy, one of the most important bonds is with your dog


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