I admit to spending a lot of time now that I am retired reminiscing about my childhood in Iowa, and a lot of that time daydreaming about my first dog, Frolics. What is it about a person's first dog that looking back seems so magical? Maybe it was the times - more laid-back and everything happened real slow in small town Iowa in the 50's. Maybe we just got lucky because Frolics was one of those one-in-a-million dogs they make movies about. Regardless, I decided the other day to write my pal a long overdue letter. Here is part of it:
Dear Frolics, You were really real, weren't you? When I think about you (like I do so often) you never made any mistakes, you never had any "accidents,"you never barked or whined for food or did a darn thing wrong. You took everything we handed out to you in stride and never complained. You were better as a dog than I ever will be as a person. I see the pictures of you, the old Kodaks we have at home, and think to myself, "Why aren't there more pictures of you? I would give anything for more pictures." Let's start at the beginning. I was four years old and though I don't remember much, I do remember you running up to my dad as a small puppy. Your brothers and sisters didn't pay any attention at all to the three of us - me, Dad and brother Wesley. I remember Wesley saying, "Let's get this one." I remember the guy we bought you from. He wanted $25 and my dad (always trying to save a dime) offered him $15 and he accepted it. I was so happy. I can also sort of remember my grandparents trying to talk us OUT of getting a dog beforehand, saying dogs belonged on the farm and living outside, of course. Hey, these were the '50's and Iowa after all. Here is what else I recall, and believe me, I wish I didn't remember this part: My mom rubbing your nose in your pee when you had an accident in the house. I remember thinking this was sad somehow and I didn't like it. Frolics, I am so sorry about this, but back then we did not know any better. This was the ONLY thing I remember you doing that was probably not so appropriate. The greatest story I remember about you is the day you followed me to kindergarten. Oh, what a grand day that was -- for me, at least. Mrs. Heffelmeir (the best teacher ever) let me keep you there the whole day. Believe this or not, I remember kids coming up to us both and petting you. Do you believe I can remember that? I 'sort of' remember asking my mom the next day if you could go back with me to kindergarten. She declined. You were even mentioned in the Eldora Herald Index that Friday, "Frolics Harms visited Kindergarten this week." I remember my mom telling me you somehow sneaked into the Presbyterian church one day, walked right down the aisle, and the preacher's wife (Mrs. Harbert's) escorted you out. Frolics, sometimes I can't remember where I set my coffee cup down in the morning, but I can remember the night you didn't feel well and mom let you sleep next to my bed -- I put you in my blue doll buggy and you slept there all night. Having you in my room was unheard of, so this was special. (This was the same doll buggy our cat had kittens in, remember?). I remember when you got lost for a week and we were all so devastated. I remember when after a week my mom called me at school and told me you had slowly returned home, almost crawling, and how thankful I was. (Remember, you had gotten locked in a garage only a block from home and someone had locked the door with you in there for a week.) My dad told me there must have been standing water in that damn garage or you would have not survived. When you did come home after that week, you were never the same; somehow you had aged beyond your years. But now, on to more happy times. The times you rode in my bicycle basket to grandma's were happy times for me, Frolics. I just wish we had a picture of that. (I would give a lot of money if we did). Remember, we sat on grandma's porch for long summer afternoons eating cookies, and you always sat on grandpa's lap). Yes, he and grandma came to love you as much as the rest of us after getting to know you. I will never forget those times EVER. What a glorious dog you were and you will always be the litmus test for every dog I have. Frolics, you will always be my Forever Number One Dog. Did you know that every essay I ever wrote in grade school was about you? How cute you were, your antics, and how you never got very big? You were only 10 pounds at most. I remember my mom bursting into tears when she told the neighbor across the street that you had died and the neighbor saying comforting words and my mom being embarrassed that she had cried. Did you also know that about a week after my dad died in early 1990 I had a dream about you and it was the most real dream I have ever had in my entire life? In it, you were really old (at least 40 years old) and I was so worried because I thought I had forgotten to feed you for all those years. Strange, huh? Anyway, in this same dream you TALKED to me - in English. I cannot believe to this day that this dream really happened, but it did. When another person entered the room (in this dream) you STOPPED talking, sort of like "Mr. Ed". For the life of me I can't recall what we talked about after I woke up. All these years since, I have always wondered what that dream meant and if you were trying to tell me something. My hope is that you ran across that Rainbow Bridge we hear so much about at the end of your time and that you are with grandpa and grandma right now, being their dog, and making them laugh. I hope I see you and them again when it is my time. I hope you are with Gracie, my cocker spaniel (she is buried next to you by your dog house, the one that you never once used). I hope you are good buddies. Perhaps you are also with Tony, my pony (beloved but not so beloved as you.) What more could a girl ask for?