Mrs.Macanudo
25+ Posts
his name was Clyde. The lady down the street found him and she had a dog named Bonnie.
Clyde was MY dog. We had a tri-level house. I was three (at the oldest) but I remember him under my crib....and later at the foot of my bed.....Under the covers mind you, he would lick my cheek every night, turn twice and burrow his way to my feet under the comforter.
When we moved from Tennessee to Georgia....Clyde came with. I fed him a bologna and mustard sandwich. My dad was really mad when Clyde puked din the back seat of our gold Buick.
There wasn't a leash law in the late 70's, early 80's. My mother, until this day says the only reason she let me pl,ay outside at the park, etc. was because she knew Clyde was there/ She knew how much he loved me. He would sit under my crib in Tennessee and strut down two flights to tell my Mom (while she did laundry( to haul her butt up and comfort me.
Clyde was MY dog. We had a tri-level house. I was three (at the oldest) but I remember him under my crib....and later at the foot of my bed.....Under the covers mind you, he would lick my cheek every night, turn twice and burrow his way to my feet under the comforter.
When we moved from Tennessee to Georgia....Clyde came with. I fed him a bologna and mustard sandwich. My dad was really mad when Clyde puked din the back seat of our gold Buick.
There wasn't a leash law in the late 70's, early 80's. My mother, until this day says the only reason she let me pl,ay outside at the park, etc. was because she knew Clyde was there/ She knew how much he loved me. He would sit under my crib in Tennessee and strut down two flights to tell my Mom (while she did laundry( to haul her butt up and comfort me.
