I grew up living with my grandparents. I moved back in with my dad when I was around sixteen. One of our friends dog had a litter of puppies and my dad let me pick one out. Of course, I picked the runt. I have always been for the under dog.
I named him Dinky.
Dinky, being the runt was sickly and I grew up in the country where you just didn't take your animals to the vet. I didn't even realize that there was such a thing as an 'animal' doctor.
Unfortunately, Dinky died a few months later. My heart was broken. I cried and cried. My dad said "no more animals". I guess he didn't like to see me crying with my broken heart.
I have always loved animals. All kinds, except reptiles...namely spiders! I wanted a pet.
One Saturday morning I was in bed asleep and my dad came in and laid something in the bed with me. I looked over and it was a baby deer. My dad had been out in the field on the tractor and almost mowed over it. The mother had left the baby for some reason so he brought the baby home to me.
Although my dad had said to me 'no more pets' he knew that in my heart I wanted a pet. He brought me a 'rare' pet.
That is one of the sweet memories I have of my dad. My dad died January 5, 1994. Today he would have been 64 years old. I miss not having a dad.
While driving to work this morning I was thinking of my dad at 64 years old. He may have been to the point where I had to help him pay bills, take him to the doctor, etc. Maybe he would have been healthy and I wouldn't have had to do those things. I do know that I miss having a dad.
So, happy birthday dad.
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