And to tell the Tale of Rover
First my esteemed producer says I must provide a back-story for my characters; so here are the tricky details.
My Mom gave birth to a boy she named Bobby. After the birth, the doctors told her she could not have any more children. So, she and my Pop, not wanting to raise an only child, decided they would adopt a child to be a playmate. While the adoption process was still in the works, Bobby died of encephalitis at 18 mos. Nonetheless, my folks continued on with the process they had started and brought me home when I was 18mos old (rescued from the Children’s Shelter).
Seven years pass, and my mother begins getting concerned because she is gaining weight! Months of weight gain continue (with regular 28 day events occurring promptly) until in about four months she feels what she knows to be the quickening of a child – but which she also knows can’t be true! Well, it seems that when the Doctors told her she “couldn’t have any more children” they really meant “she shouldn’t get pregnant” because her womb was misformed and she would not be able to bear a child to term. It also turns out that some women do manage to menstruate throughout pregnancy.
So eight year old Bruce was primed for the big event. (My Mom was a great reader of the elite medical journals of the day, AKA “The Reader’s Digest” and had picked up all sorts of tips on preparing older siblings to welcome a newcomer. I got to do a lot of belly feeling and could giggle when Mom’s belly jumped when the Baby kicked. I was told how lucky I was to be getting a new baby Brother/Sister, and how important it was for the new baby to have a Big Brother for protection, etc, etc, and puzzlement forth. Chuck came into the world via Caesarian section and came to stay. When the friends and relatives came by to see the new baby, the only way that happened was if I picked up Chuck and showed him off as my new Brother. This event occurred in February.
Now, to the Tale
One cold March morning as I left to go up the hill to the School Bus stop, I was greeted by an old bedraggled looking black and white mutt. I felt sorry for him, and shared my morning doughnut with him. When I got back from school, the dog was patiently waiting at the bus stop. I told him home and asked if I could keep him. The answer was a definite NO. Mom was concerned that a dog in the house might harm the baby. So poor Rover (how imaginative I was at eight) had to make do with my putting an old blanket by the front steps and sneaking him doughnuts in the morning. (Knowing my Father, there was some other “sneaking” going on,) Each morning Rover dutifully escorted me to the bus stop, and each afternoon he was unfailingly waiting at the bus stop for my return.
Come a nice spring day in April and Mom decides to give Brother Chuck some sunshine. She bundles him in a carriage and goes up the hill to visit with a friend. To give Chuck the benefit of the beautiful spring weather she left him in his carriage on the friend’s front porch. While Mom and the friend were enjoying coffee there came a big ruckus from out front – terrified the women dashed out to find Rover firmly planted in front of the carriage with his hackles raised and making large menacing growls at the Homeowner who had decided to come home early! Nobody was going to get near that carriage while Rover was around!
Rover never slept outside again.
Der Brucer
(A few years later when we planned a move to the city where there would be no place for Rover to romp as he was accustomed, my Father convinced me that Rover would be much happier living out his remaining years on a nice farm, so Rover went to New Jersey and was loving cared for until he died. I fondly remember the many visits to the farm to see Rover and explore to mysteries of farm machinery and houses without electricity or indoor plumbing, and learned the wonders of bacon fresh from the smoke house, vine ripened tomatoes and cantaloupes, and just-picked corn on the cob.)