Clyde

Morey was dead. We were in deep mourning. This was the first death we kids had ever experienced. Our parents could see we were sad so they decided to take all five of us to the SPCA (pound) so we could get a new dog. We knew this dog wouldn't replace Morey, no dog could. But it least it would fill the void we all felt.

When we got to the pound, I was amazed at how many dogs we could choose from.  There were all types of dogs. But we all had to agree which dog we would take home with us. So we all looked around and consulted with each other.

We agreed upon a medium sized golden retriever. I doubt it was a pure bred retriever. We didn't care. We just wanted a dog. I am not sure how Mom and Dad felt about this type of dog. It was much larger than Morey. But, they agreed and we got the dog.

Morey

 I am not quite sure how to spell this but it sounds like “more-e.”

Morey was the name of the best dog our family ever had. He was a small dog with mostly black fur and tan highlights. This picture shows the proper coloring but Morey was probably twice as big.

No one is quite sure how we acquired Morey, he was just there one day and never left us. He was the friendliest dog in the world. In fact, he was the neighborhood dog. He knew the neighbors better than we did.

One day one of our unknown neighbors moved away and happened to take Morey with them. Somehow Mom was aware of this dognapping and called the police. I am not sure we ever had hope that Morey would come back. It was a sad day.