It's time to write about another ancestral pet. This is Becky, a devilish little cocker spaniel who made everyone smile except the cat. Since this picture was taken in 1980, I must have been twenty-three at the time. Though Becky is cute, that rug is an eyesore. Nightmare inducing braided rugs were popular in the seventies and eighties. A short time later, Becky was taken for a trim. The poor thing hated the trim, and hid behind the sofa for the longest time. I liked her better shaggy too.
Another view of the ugly rug. Becky is obviously contemplating naughtiness in this photo. She was an accomplished escape artist, and loved to dig under fences for self-guided walks. I chased after her more than once. She'd stop, wag her tiny tail, then zip off just before capture. Once, I fooled her by lying on the ground until curiosity got the best of her and I grabbed her collar. She never fell for that again. She was a smart little tyke.
This is Becky's hidey sofa. The fashionable pillows where made by my mother. Whenever a dog walked past the house, Becky would drape herself on the back of the sofa to watch. She was a very friendly puppy who loved everybody and everything, and often expressed that love by squealing and/or peeing on the floor. Cockers frequently have weak bladders. She especially loved the paperboy. Since the paperboy was a daily visitor, paper towels were always at hand. Fortunately, she grew out of the peeing problem with age.
Hey! It's my mother! Since Mom inherited all the cheek bones in the family, nothing was left for the rest of us. Don't look at the chair. When Becky was first adopted, an effort was made to keep her in the kitchen at night. It soon became clear the effort was a failure. She'd climb over the doggie gate, run into my mother's bedroom carrying her spitty old chew toy, and sleep on the bed. Becky was the Queen, but her rule was benevolent.
Allowing pets to rule is a family tradition!