My folks had a black dog named “Pepper”during their early married years. The stories on this dog are rampant, from being accidentally locked in the house while they were gone on a week’s vacation (they never found a “mess!”), to his “radar ears” when someone was opening a piece of candy – even clear in the other end of the house, to attending church services with his tail “whapping” on each pew (“Pepper, you can stay, but your tail has to go,” the preacher said.), to running inside places of business downtown and puking from fear when there was a storm. I think the time after he got left in the house during vacation, they got back, and gave him a bunch of water to drink. He drank so much, that later Dad said he came up by his mom’s house, “sloshing” as he trotted along!

Later, when I was little, they (we) had a black dog named “Ring.” He had been hit by a car at one point, and his one front leg got atrophied and drawn-up, and he got around on the remaining 3 legs. He did O.K. He finally got old and died, I guess. I did learn one lesson one day about “don’t bother a dog while he’s eating!”

I had a black lab/German shepherd cross when I was a freshman in high school. He was like a big, furry black lab, and we traded a whole bunch of kittens for him. What a deal! I named him “Columbo,” after the TV show, though I never watched the show. He was a lot of fun, and would play and fetch anything to his heart’s content. In the fall, he disappeared, and I always figured perhaps hunters may have picked him up, as he didn’t wear tags. Who knows, but he was a fun dog.