Debbie, Sep 4, 1958
1959 • La Habra ~ We had a boxer named Nana. Debbie wanted a puppy and when a guy at Chuck’s work brought in a passel of puppies he brought one home for her. Debbie got to name her. Nana was good with us kids but rambunctious, jumping up and knocking over the little kids. She wasn’t allowed in the house but had the run of the backyard. Chuck fenced in the side yard for a dog run, and that’s where she stayed at night and when no one was home. He figured she’d be a good watchdog since she barked at everyone. I wasn’t so sure why we needed a guard dog; it wasn’t like we lived in Compton, or had anything worth stealing, and the only stranger that came up the driveway was the Fuller Brush man.
Carleen played with Nana in the front yard, throwing a ball for her to fetch. Chuck built her a big doghouse to escape the sun, but Debbie spent more time playing house in it than Nana did. Debbie was the one who discovered she had puppies. Nana had dug a hole between the two Washington palms in the corner of the backyard and delivered her litter there in the protected shade.
“MOM! MOM! Nana had PUPPIES!”
“No way.”
“Way,” piped Debbie with utter excitement, tugging on Carleen’s white blouse. “Come see!”
Sometimes Nana jumped the fence and took off like the wind, which of course was how she ended up having puppies. Chuck always beat her for getting out. He wasn’t an animal kind of person. I’m grateful my brother-in-law was good to me, but I wish he’d been nicer to poor Nana, and to my sister.
to be continued…
© 2018. Catherine Sevenau.
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