THE DAY THAT SPOT DIED.
Spot was my favorite pet ever. When you fill out these forms that ask you to tell your favorite teacher, color, food and stuff like that then Spot will go in the slot for me where it mentions my favorite pet.
Spot was MY dog the year when Bob started to school and I was left home to play with my sister Janie. Nothing wrong with Janie mind you but Spot would do so many things for me. He would go fetch. He would stay by my side if I asked him to. He would chase a rabbit. Most of the time he would do that without me asking.
I don’t remember where Spot came from. He may have just showed up on the place one day and mother started feeding him and there he was. Most times Dad would haul dogs off somewhere and I would never see them again. Spot was different. Dad liked him too.
It must have been a Saturday. All the kids were home from school and it was a pretty day. Spot was playing around with everybody. George was still in the house. He had some boils on the back of his neck and Mother was cleaning them up. Spot didn’t know this bit of information I think. We were about two football fields away from the county road and a couple of boys were walking along the road with their guns. They were walking out into the country side to hunt. This was not unusual.
I guess Spot thought that one of those young fellas was George and he did not want George to go hunting without him. What was in the mind of those boys walking on the road I never learned. All of a sudden we heard gunshots coming from that road. Spot yelped. He started running back toward us. Another gunshot or two. We thought we were going to be hit. About that time George came out of the house to see what was going on. Spot arrived about that time too and flopped down at my feet. He was bleeding from the mouth. His breath was labored. I started holding his head and tried to get him to keep breathing. Marguerite noticed what was happening and pulled me off of Spot.
George was angry. He went into the house and got the keys to the car. Mother begged him not to go, but go he did. He thought he recognized those boys and he wanted to have a word with them. Mother told us all to get into the house. She did not want us to get killed.
We were watching out the window when he drove up to the boys. They talked a little bit and then got in the car with George. Did they kidnap George? Dad had left early that morning with one of the county commissioners to do some meeting stuff in Lubbock. Mother was in some of a quandary on what to do.
George showed up about thirty minutes later, intact. He explained that he did know both of the boys and that he gave them a ride to one of the fellas uncle’s place where they were headed to hunt. They explained to George that they thought Spot was coming to attack them and they used their guns in self-defense.
A lot of tears were shed that day. We had a funeral for Spot. It has been hard for me to get attached to another pet all these years. Sammy is helping to correct that some. He is not as close a companion as Spot was. Sorry about that Sammy.