The summers in Texas were magical for me, on the farm, with my dad's old horse Pony, and the two German Shorthaired Pointers, Junibug and Little Hairs.
Pony was so old she had barely any teeth and I wasn't allowed to ride her, so she was like a very large dog. She followed me everywhere, always nosing at my pockets. She was lame but she was game. I would take her into the barn and get corn for her and it would fall out of her mouth.
Junibug and Little Hairs were great. I was particularly smitten with Junibug. She had big patches of brown, she wasn't ticked like Little Hairs. She also had a long tail. I wonder now if she was more English Pointer than GS Pointer. Little Hairs had the docked tail. Junibug was more mellow. She was always within touching distance. Little Hairs was more inquisitive, always running ahead, scouting out the trail.
Every morning, I would set out with Pony and the dogs, with my double holsters and my silver guns, and my red cowboy boots, and a lunch packed by my grandmother. There was a small canyon behind the house with a bunch of vines and cacti, etc. We would go hang out down there. I can't believe I was never bitten by a snake, actually. Of course the dogs would have warned me. I did have multiple encounters with cactuses though.
Pony died in 1956 at the age of 30 when we were in France. My dad and I both cried when we found out.
My childhood was amazing and unique. In fact, it ruined my life in many ways. I remember when I was seven, listening to the radio in my parents' room in Australia, eyes closed, lying on the rug with my head on a pillow, the sound of the branches and leaves blowing in the wind outside. I often wonder, is this a dream and am I still in Australia? Will I wake up and be able to do it all differently? Or is this my life and my memories will always be an albatross around my neck?
Showing posts with label German Shorthaired Pointer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label German Shorthaired Pointer. Show all posts
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