We promised the boys when we moved to Oklahoma, we would have a house and a fenced yard, and would get them a dog.  So that’s when we got Brutus.  I wrote an entire book, with pictures, about Brutus, so I won’t repeat his stories here.  He then lived with us in the apartment in Chicago, the house in St. Charles, MO, the townhouse in Kansas City, and finally, the house in Woodbridge, VA, once again with a fenced yard.  He had quite a life, so you really should read the book.

Our very first dog was Smokey, a little mutt we got from the pound in Cleveland.  There are a few pictures of him among our Cleveland photographs—not many, because we didn’t have him for long.  He chewed up everything he could get his teeth on, including the boys’ bunk beds.  Then he started some serious throwing up.  We took him to the vet and, no surprise, he had an obstruction in his intestines that would require major surgery.  We absolutely couldn’t afford it, so he had to be put to sleep.

Mike and Dan may not know about this, but Mac’s and my very first pet was a kitten. I think someone must have given it to us. This was when Mac was in the Army and we lived in Killeen, Texas. It was a female, but I don’t even remember what we named it. When we flew the Navion back to Kentucky for a visit the summer after we got married, we took the kitten with us. She was very nervous in the noisy plane, and when we finally stopped at Greater Cincinnati Airport and Mac opened the door, that kitten took off like it was shot from a rocket. We looked all over but never saw it again.

Over the years we’ve owned many dogs and even a couple of cats, or maybe they owned us.  They can be expensive and very messy, and they tie you down.  Yet, when you have to take one to the vet to be put to sleep, it tears your heart out, every time.  James Herriot wrote, "Everyone who acquires a dog has to face the fact that they don't live long enough and that there is sadness ahead." Here are some stories of the animals that were and are a part of our family.