One Good DOG (Part 4) CRICKET

4/14/2014

Mother often talks about time periods in our family. She will ask me if I remember any of the period ‘B.C.’ That stands for Before Cricket. I probably recollect some of it, but many of my formative years were with Cricket in my life.

Cricket was a little mutt puppy that my sister Nancy and mother came home with from the pound on Front Street in Memphis. Of course our cat, Graham Cracker, wasn’t happy about it and scratched its nose on the first day. The rest of the family was very happy and most excited about having one with eyebrows for some reason. Even Daddy was fine with it, and when he turned him over he realized that he was a she. I guess his Animal Husbandry degree from UT paid off. She was a cute little puppy and we were very proud of her. I’m not sure what breed she was, but was called a ‘Heinz 57’. For those who aren’t sure what that means… She was made up of 57 Varieties. Paula Hooper who worked for Dr. Thurmond at his veterinary clinic proclaimed that she was a Dandie Dinmont Terrier, so we decided to go with that one.

At my age and status in the family, I don't think I got a vote in naming her (I would have probably wanted "The Long Ranger" or "Hot Wheels"), but I am sure that it was very involved, much like it was naming our new puppy last week. I put her on Facebook and over 2,000 people viewed it with LOTS of Comments with suggestions. Come to think of it, I didn't really have much of a vote in naming Ava either. Or as Jack calls her; Ava Kate White.

Cricket's personality was infectious. Everybody loved her and she loved everybody……. Except one peculiar lady that frequently walked by our house. She was the only one that caused her to bark. I don’t really remember if she was a dog that even barked when the garbage men came to get our stuff, although she probably did.

I was sheltered from this episode as a young boy, but apparently Cricket was in heat and on our screened in back porch when a wandering male broke through the screen and had his way with her. Mother & Daddy decided that since she was probably bred, we needed to try to improve to genetics of at least some of the puppies. No ordinary male would do! I don’t remember which male they decided on this first time. It was either the Kirk’s dog Snoopy or the Evan’s dog Mickey. I am sure it was a Methodist dog. Everybody wanted one of Cricket’s puppies and the price was right. I have a feeling that these litters were the first Designer Breeds, but that didn’t catch on until 3 to 4 decades later. I can only remember some of their names: Dodger, Oliver, Casper, Fringe, Gately … Whenever I was given the task of taking Cricket for a leash walk when she was in heat, I would finish by going in the backdoor of my Grandmother’s house across the street and coming out the front, leaving a group of suitors waiting in her back yard.

Cricket loved to go. She logged numerous miles following me on my bicycle. She was a fixture downtown, waiting outside of Woolworth, Forked Deer, Ben Franklin, Western Auto, Firestone or Piggly Wiggly. She waited by my bike and never went in…..one of her puppies (the Artful Dodger) was not so obedient and decided the new automatic doors that Mr. Bradshaw put in at Piggly Wiggly were designed for him. I’m not sure if Cricket went farther with me or with my grandmother who walked for exercise, even before it was fashionable. Grandmother (aka Big Nancy, aka Mary) would come across the street to ask her if she wanted to go walking. Cricket had this wonderful petite howl to express her desire not to be left behind, EVER.

She grew up in the era of dogs running loose in our neighborhood. All of them got along. Puff, Jiffy, Suzy, Wags, Tuffy and Dude to name a few….. She would go absolutely crazy for a Hershey’s Kiss, because she also grew up in the era of us not knowing any better. She loved the snow, she loved Christmas and she loved company. Cricket was the Norman Vincent Peale of the canine world. During her tenure, my sister Marion acquired a baby robin that she wanted to rescue. Rubin the Robin stayed in a basket, but as he grew we would let him hop around the kitchen floor (if the cat was outside). Cricket was of course very hospitable and would even let him pull the hairs on her feet like he was pulling worms.

Cricket was the family dog and we all loved her, but she slept with me, rode with me, came to visit me at school during recess, played with me in the snow and would follow me to the end of the world if she could. I felt that she was MY dog.

When Cricket died, mother couldn’t bring herself to call to tell us kids. She decided to write each of us a letter instead. When my mother opened a dress shop, she needed to come up with a perfect name. Some of you may not know that “Cricket Corner” is named after MY dog. If you go in the store and see a portrait of a cute little Black & White dog(and finally with a lot of grey)………….. She’s mine.