Brings back memories of a day in the summer of 46, when a local farmer brought his fresh vegetable truck to the front door on his regular weekly schedule. He had a put in a box on the seat and sat it down on the ground while filling moms basket with her selections. As he was closing the sides of the vegetable display, my mom looked at me holding the pup and said, you can keep him if you want, Frankie. I looked a lot like the little girl for several minutes. We could not have a dog after moving into the housing provided for war workers at the Carbon Plant. I had missed the dogs and animals for that year and a half and the flood gates opened.
Posted on: Sat, 29 Nov 2014 13:52:05 +0000
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