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Five Minute Friday: Remembering Useless

November 4, 2011 By Sandra Heska King

Casey, a therapy dog

We’ve been taking a lot of walks down memory lane.

Like yesterday when a volunteer brought Casey to visit.

It got us talking about our own dog.

The one my dad brought home one day, the last left of a litter that some vet was giving away.

His mother was a Lassie dog. The puppy was black and white.

My mom peered all slanty-eyed into that big cardboard box.

“What are we going to do with that useless thing?”

Useless was allowed on the kitchen linoleum only. He was not allowed on the carpet.

The dog was quite protective of us kids. Dad once tried to swat my brother on the behind, but Useless grabbed his wrist.

My dad remembered the day when we kids were home alone, and some man drove in the driveway and “got nasty” with us.

Useless jumped up on his car and left scratches down the side of his door.

The man later called my dad and told him he was going to sue. Dad told him to go ahead. And never heard from him again.

Then there was the time Useless ignored the rules.

He took off past the kitchen boundary line and down the hall, whining and sniffing at every door until he stopped at my sister’s.

Where my parents discovered she had vomited all over her bed.

From that time on, Useless was allowed the run of the house.

Until shortly after we moved to town, and the three-year-old next door squealed when the neighbor picked him up.

Useless went after the neighbor, though my parents were able to stop him.

That was the day they decided to give him away to a farmer.

I remember that he died shortly of a broken heart.

My dad says my memory is wrong.

I guess that’s possible.

 

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Filed Under: stories and reflections, writing

Comments

  1. Heatherly says

    November 4, 2011 at 12:39 pm

    What a beautiful tribute!

    • Sandra says

      November 5, 2011 at 8:56 am

      🙂

  2. Linda says

    November 4, 2011 at 1:10 pm

    Your writing is so beautiful Sandy – so moving. For me it was Shep. How they do carve out a spot in our hearts that somehow is never quite filled.
    Praying for you always.

    • Sandra says

      November 5, 2011 at 9:01 am

      We lost our Rose a year or so ago. But I think our kids will always remember Elsie, our black lab. She was such a good dog. Sigh…

      And thank you. xoxo

  3. Dolly @ Soul Stops says

    November 4, 2011 at 2:22 pm

    Dear Sandy,

    I absolutely loved your post and how Useless was love embodied to your family.

    Thank you for sharing your story.

  4. Sheila Lagrand says

    November 4, 2011 at 4:40 pm

    Hero was our Mythical Family Dog. By which I mean the stories of his deeds reach mythic proportions. He’s been dead since 1979 and we still can’t talk about Hero in front of my dad.

  5. Nani says

    November 4, 2011 at 11:06 pm

    Ours was Missy. She was a pure bread collie, but her ears didn’t fold, sol she’d never be a show dog. What she was though, was the most loving and protective dog when my brother and I were in middle school and high school.

  6. diana says

    November 5, 2011 at 12:32 am

    What a beautiful dog in the photos, Sandy – and how lovely that this visitor sparked such wonderful memory sharing. And thanks for passing those along to us, too. Thinking of you a lot. Prayers and virtual {{hugs}}.

  7. Sharon O says

    November 5, 2011 at 12:58 am

    Looks like a long haired dachsund and yes they are very protective like a shephard only they don’t know they are little. Great dogs with an attitude.

  8. Louise says

    November 5, 2011 at 9:35 am

    Your writing is exquisite Sandra, like your heart and this story.

    Ellie is my ‘Wonder Pooch’. She has been through a lot with me, and my daughters absolutely love her — but then, she’s completely lovable.

    Hugs

  9. S. Etole says

    November 5, 2011 at 1:26 pm

    I think you were right … about that broken heart.

  10. Cecilia Marie Pulliam says

    November 5, 2011 at 7:23 pm

    What a heartbreak to give up a pet companion. Been there too. Sometimes it really is for the best, for both. I know it was the right thing for me to do. Frieda, a St. Bernard/Bernese Mountain dog was a mismatch for me. I gave her to a family who owned a 20 acre ranch and loved big dogs. After the first few heartwrenching nights, for both her and me, we both settled into our new lives. I lived alone and was gone all the time with my business, leaving little time for Freida. The ranch family never went anywhere without Freida. With two darling twin girls, I am sure she came to love her new family as much, maybe even more than me.

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