When I was a tyke back in the early 80s we received an older cat named Ya Ya. Some years later friends of my parents gave us a dog named Harry. He was a medium sized mutt with black shaggy fur. I’ve joked that he was a mixture of everything. Harry was an easy going dog that never barked. I’ve told with my mom that he would have made the worlds worst watch dog and if he knew where her jewelry was located he’d happily bring a burglar to them if he was asked where they were.
Harry was so gentle with Ya Ya. He tried so hard to be her friend. Unfortunately she had no interest in him whatsoever. I cannot tell how many times she scratched him in the nose to make him leave her alone. In fact she was v n left a mark in it. He would walk away only to return a short time later to try again only to get more of the same.
Harry wasn’t neutered which I now wish had been done after we received him. Especially considering the fact that my dad would let him out loose at night. I can only imagine how many puppies he fathered. He would have been the perfect guest for the talk show Maury when they did the paternity tests.
Some years after my parents divorce my dad called my mom asking if he could have Harry. He claimed that he got himself in some sort of jam and wanted him for protection. It wasn’t until over 30 years later that the idea of Harry being used for protection seemed laughable. Not unless my dad’s idea of protection was Harry licking whoever he was having issues with.
My dad passed away in 1993. Afterwards a close friend of his told me that Harry had run away and didn’t come back. I can’t help wondering if he tried to find his way back to the home I grew up in. Whatever happened I hope a loving family found him and took him in.
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