Pets, And More Pets

This is my cousin Jay Miller's dog, R.I.P., O'Malley. He's a full-working Australian Blue Heeler, who had to be retired after hurting his hind leg. He's a crafty little guy that would bite your ankles, since he thought everything was a sheep or cattle. He used to get so gnarly after he was hurt that Jay bought a shock collar. Jay's an agricultural expert, and does all things ag.: drive a cattle truck, manage livestock and crop production on a ranch, you name it.

When Tabby and I first visited Jay in Plainview, where he worked in a feed yard, we brought Nala with us. O'Malley and Nala didn't quite get along, but we did wake up to Jay feeding the dogs a half-pound of bacon the first morning there. They got along when the bacon flowed.



This is a photograph of Boomerang, my grandma's dog. I found Boomerang on the street in Philadelphia in 1997. He used to run with the wild dog packs of North Philly, before all the yuppies moved in. There was a "mean dog pack" that you had to run inside your apartment when you heard all the howls at night. There were pits bulls, german shepards, you name all the alpha dogs. Boomerang was part of the "wimpy dog" pack, or all the less agressive breeds. He was lost on my block of 1200 N. 4th Street one day, so I took him in.



I gave him to my Grandma for her surprise 80th birthday in 1997, since her last dog had recently died. She used to ask if "Boomerang can spend the night," so I knew I had to give him away. While my Grandma used to watch C-Span and yell at the lunatic Republican congressman she disliked so much, Boomerang used to sit diligently by her. He lived to 17 years old, but made it to Oklahoma with us after my Grandma passed away. He was sneaky from his street days, and if you were not paying attention, he'd eat whatever was on your plate. He once ate a two pound block of aged asiago cheese in about 15 seconds.

This is a photograph of Tabby's cat Murphy, R.I.P. Even though this cat looks real cuddly and everything here, even my wife admits it was the "meanest cat ever born." Murphy would often bite your foot while making coffee in the morning, until she got a saucer of half and half. She lived to be 16 years old.

Even though some stupid historian or writer mentioned that you shouldn't use your dedication page to acknowledge your pets, I say "screw you," who could be so unhumorous. As the great Oklahoma writer Jim Thompson once said, "I hate two things in the world: people who hate old people, and people who hate pets." I agree with him. Who the hell else would sit with you all day in your writing office, anyway? That loyalty deserves a line or two in the ack-page.

This is a photograph of Tabby's dog Nala with Dave Lorenz. He, Pauly the Suit, and Mike Martin came to visit November 2005. Dave and Nala are good friends going all the way back to the Hicks St. days in Philadelphia, where Nala used to sneak up on the couch while Dave was sleeping. The visit brought back old memories for her.