Stories of King, where to begin? He was best buddies with the youngest son, Jimmy and the protector of the Mom, Jane. He was a gentle giant but when he wagged his tail everything in its path was on the verge of destruction. He loved long walks late at night, barking at the neighborhood children while tethered to the anchor secured in the middle of the front yard, and vanilla ice cream from Dipper Dan. Yep, when our grandmother was visiting we kids used to lie and say to our Dad, "Grandma said she wants ice cream from Dipper Dan!" She would just smile and Dad would always oblige. We enjoyed ours but King did more! I can still conjure, in my mind, the sight and sound of King lapping up his scoop of vanilla ice cream in his turquoise bowl right in the middle of the walkway from the living room to the dining room.
King was adopted from the Miami Humane Society after weeks of our Dad searching for just the right dog. We think he had been abused, in today's terms, he was a rescued soul.
So, I know that a pet does not really count as an ancestor and King does not fit anywhere into our family tree but who says that the heirlooms that we have from "man's best friend" don't count here, right?! It's my blog and I can write what I want to....! (Can you hear the tune...it's gonna' be stuck in my head all day now!)