Family pets

I remember two by name. And there was the rooster.... but first the dog and the cat...

When I was a kid on Warder Avenue, we had a dog named Cindy. Cindy was an English setter. She was a city dog and a farm dog. Who worried about papers? Did she have any?

Mostly, Cindy was in our backyard, but everyday she'd go over the picket fence and make a trip to Mrs. Durning's, just across the alley toward Delmar. Mrs. Durnning bought pasteurized milk from the milkman - the cream on top was just for Cindy! And Cindy would come back home with treats in paper bags. Not for us; for her. And so there were always paper bags all over the backyard.

Mom named our cat "Old Black Evil." She was a true "rescue", but no one called rescued animals that, way back when. As I heard the story, Mom heard mewing coming from across the alley and tracked the sound down to the small space between the Durning's garage and their trash pit. That's what we called them, and that's what it was. It was a concrete-sided enclosure where you threw your trash. Somehow, that small kitten had crawled into the small space, and there it was stuck.

Today I don't know whether it was Mom or Pop who got the cat out. Somewhere, over the years, I heard there was a broom handle involved. But we had a new cat. The name? Old Black Evil. The cat was solid black. Not a white spot on her, anywhere.

I don't remember having hens in our backyard on Warder Avenue, but maybe we did. Is that where our eggs came from? But I remember a rooster. Probably not so well as Betsy must remember that rooster.

That rooster did not like Betsy! She can fill in the rest of the story about that!

Cindy always went with us to the farm. And, when we were ready to leave and come back to town, Cindy always knew - about 30 minutes before leaving time. And Cindy would head for the hills. Literally. And then we'd be there an hour or two longer, waiting for the dog to come back. I don't remember anytime when we left her.

Cindy had her special riding place in the car. No sitting on a seat with her head out the window, and certainly not on anyone's lap. That dog's place was on the front passenger-side floor. That was "her" spot, and that's where she already rode. It was a good spot for her, and she was safe there, in event of any sudden stops.

I took a picture one day a couple of years ago of a car in the lane next to me at a traffic light. There were two little "yappers" leaning out the driver's window. Couldn't even see the driver. Maybe there wasn't any driver!