Wednesday, December 5, 2012

After a cool swim.

(Brian fell in cold waters helping Butters find a way back to shore from a reedy lake.)

It was a cool afternoon in April, 1991. Brian and his dad were at the baseball field by Pierce College for practice. I arrived late from work and sat in the stands waiting for them to finish practice. At break time, he came over to say hi and asked about a box I was holding.
"A present for you."
" Is it a baseball mitt?"
"Is it a new pair of sneakers?"
His dad called the boys for final instructions before releasing them to their parents, and right then I told Brian I had brought him a new puppy for his 11th birthday. He opened the box, grabbed the dog and ran back to the field screaming at his teammates to wait. And there, on the field, the boys all sat around and admired the new puppy that looked more bear than dog.

When we got home, the puppy, named Wooley on that field, became Brian's constant companion. 
When we retired in 2002, Brian was still in college. Wooley went to live with him until we were settled in Oregon.  

Wooley remained with Brian until she died of cancer. Putting her to sleep was the toughest thing he ever had to do. 

After he bought his house in July 2009, he acquired Buttercup, (Butters). 



  1. ... precious conversation between mother and boy.

  2. It's amazing how we bond to our dogs and they become part of our stories. I must consider this if I ever can get Jane a dog. I love this memory, Rosaria. This memory of your boy and his dogs. It lands in a soft place in my heart for children and men and moms and dogs and gifts.