Frank and His Parade of Dogs
In my last story mentioned the old man with all the dogs, where, as a kid, we used to have a tater patch on his property. So I’d like to tell a bit about him.
Frank was his name, and he lived by himself in this rickety old house that looked like it had been added on to a few times… but maybe it hadn’t. It’s been a long time ago, so I don’t remember for sure. Pretty sure it was the place his parents had before him.
He never drove. And since we lived several miles from town, he depended on rides from various neighbors. One thing though, Frank rarely would ask for a ride. If someone drove by while he was walking, they’d stop and ask if he’d like a ride, and he’d take it. I don’t know how often he walked to town or if he got picked up every time, but it worked for him.
He’d come walking by the house with about four or five dogs trailing along. They were all friendly—just as friendly as Frank was. If us kids were out in the front yard, we’d wave, say hi, and sometimes he’d stop and talk to us for a few minutes. Sometimes he’d come up to the door and chat with Dad for a bit, but he never came all the way in—just stayed in the doorway.
Those dogs would follow him as far as they felt like going, and sometime later, you’d see them come wandering back—heading home by themselves. They never got into people’s yards as far as I know. They just meandered their way back home. HAHA! He had more dogs than that, but only a few ever followed him around.
I remember one time when we were out at the tater patch, we ended up going into Frank’s old house, and one of his dogs was having pups. Now this part might terrify some folks, but I’m just telling what I saw. That momma dog had given birth to a pup that was only half there—the front half. I was standing there admiring the new babies when all of a sudden, she ate that deformed baby. Right in front of me! I was just about horrified, but Frank gently said,
“It’s just nature. She knew it was going to die, and she took care of it so it wouldn’t suffer.”
Life lesson learned there—ugh!
Frank passed away a couple years after I left home. But I’ve always remembered him and his parade of dogs. He was kind and soft-spoken, far as I ever knew. I’m glad I sat down and wrote this little bit—just to remember him.
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