When I was a young girl our family was very poor.  My father had been helping a farmer who was also a good friend named Bob who was a bachelor. He invited our family to move in with him.  He had a very large house with plenty of room for us.  He also had a Dalmatian named Spotty.  Spotty had been deaf since birth, but you would never have known it.  From day one Spotty and I were inseparable.  We slept together, ate together, watched Howdy Doody together, went exploring together, etc. We communicated by hand signals.  It wasn't very long before Bob gave her to me.  Oh, what a happy little seven year old I was.

     We lived down a long lane where the only two places one could go was to our house or to the quarry.  We were always the first ones on the school bus, and the last ones off.  Pete, our bus driver, would let Spotty ride to the end of the lane with me, then she would run back to the house.  Every evening when we came to our turn off, Spotty was waiting for me.  Pete would open the door and say, "Come on in Spotty".  In she would jump, then coming running to my seat and jump up beside me. My mom always said that she had a clock inside her head, because she always scratched at the door to get out when it was time for me to get home.

     We were so bonded that when I went to stay at a friend's house overnight, Spotty kept my family up all night. She lodged herself in between the wall and our old claw-footed tub and howled all night.  Dad and Bob tried everything to coax her out and calm her down, but nothing worked.  When I returned home the next morning, and she saw me, she was back to her old self again.  From then on my friends came to stay all night with me so everybody could get some sleep. That was okay with me, because I missed her as much as she missed me.

     Out in the front of the old farm house there was a tree that resembled a large bonsai tree.  I would spend hours lying under that tree with Spotty's head in my lap.  I read to her, we napped, or just watched the clouds roll by together.  And, that is where Spotty was put to rest.
 
     To some people Spotty was just a dog, but to me she was my best friend.  I still have visions of a black and white spotted dog and skinny, stringy haired tomboy running through the fields just happy to be together.  What wonderful, wonderful memories she gave me, even now 45 years later.