Who Let The Dogs Out: Do You Remember, Your First Dog?

We were living in Austin, Texas and I was probably four years old, when a neighbor came a knocking on our door. In the neighbor’s arms was a mutt of the Heinz 57 variety. The dog was super cute with floppy ears, sporting a multi-colored coat and a whimsical, hyperactive nature. “Would ya’ll like a dog? We have a litter of puppies and we just want to find them a good home,” the neighbor expressed.

My brother and I scream with enthusiasm, “Please Mommy, oh please!” We were young, but we were putting on the heat and a form of pure pressure on the situation, from the inside. Let’s call this stress tactic a salesperson’s dream and a mother’s nightmare. We were both holding on tightly to our Henry Dogs as we looked up at our mother with our full on “deer in the headlight eyes.”

Just then an amazing thing happened, the neighbor placed the puppy on the ground and it ran in circles all over the house. I believe the puppy left a few things in its path that are better left outside (not so funny).

My brother and I chased that puppy, laughing, and zig-zagging, until we were all just beat tired. However, the dog’s last burst of energy was a rush into the bathroom and a leap into the air landing directly into the toilet. Water splashed everywhere and our laughter went higher in an uproar as we called frantically to our mom until she came into the room. The neighbor and mom looked on and we all laughed uncontrollably. We named the silly mutt “Snoopy” (very original, for four), as he sat and panted in the cool toilet bowl water.

Still laughing, my mom agreed to keep the dog, our first family dog.