Once upon a time many backyards, both town and country, held a dog house. During this time, my 1st grade reader featured Dick and Jane who lived on Pleasant Street with their mom, dad, Spot, and Puff. Spot was a dog who lived in the afore-mentioned dog house, and Puff was the family cat. There was zero inflation, typical families had one vehicle, homes had one bathroom, and single-parent families were nonexistent to my knowledge. Moms were stay-at-home moms, and dads walked in the back door sometime around 6:00 P.M. from their day’s work at the office or factory.

The 40’s were my formative years, and today I’m shocked by the way younger people, my children and grandchildren included, spend money. I’ve often wondered if other people from my generation feel the same way. If this spending has a focal point, I believe it would center on pets - and dogs in particular.

We have a second home in Wisconsin in order to be closer to family. Most of our neighbors, mostly young people, have at least one dog. In strolling about the neighborhood, I have yet to see a dog house. I believe the dog transition from backyard to the home relates to the cost of puppies. Today pups can run $500-$1000 or more, and that’s just the beginning of doggie expenses. As most if not all of these dogs are purebreds, they are far more susceptible to health issues, and the backyard environment is probably too harsh.

While enjoying Christmas Day with my children and grandchildren, one of our daughters mentioned getting her daughter a Dachshund puppy for Christmas. She had a photo of the proposed pup on her phone, and her sisters immediately encouraged her to secure that particular pup. She was advised by her puppy knowledgeable sisters to contact the kennel people and quiz them. Did they own the bitch and sire? How many previous litters? Were all of the earlier pups healthy? Are the pups guaranteed? When all were satisfied with the background check, the pup was ordered.

As it would have been tacky, I didn’t ask my daughter what the puppy cost, but she’s having the pup flown in from Massachusetts. That would cost far more than I’d pay for any pup. The puppy conversation continued. Be sure to get doggie health insurance. A granddaughter mentioned that she has special orthopedic beds for her dogs. The conversation then got around to a family member spending in excess of $30,000 for doggie medical expenses! I was blown away by this spending!

In the late 70’s and through the 80’s, we owned Brown, a Chesapeake Bay retriever and the greatest dog I’ve ever known or heard of. She was watch dog, hunting dog, and family kid’s dog all in one. I believe I paid $50 for her – a princely sum in 1977.

During the fall hunting season, my job as school principal generally called for me to open up for ball games, etc. at 6:00 P.M. If I could get away from school by 4:30, it gave me an hour to pheasant hunt close to home. On this particular day I was walking a west to east fence line with Brown in a strong north wind when a rooster flushed. In that gale with wings cupped, it was a difficult shot. The bird went down, but was off and running with a probable broken wing.

In leaping over to the south side of the fence, Brown’s tender under-belly caught in the barbed wire and left her dangling upside down in the fence. She was frantic, and before I could aid in freeing her, her belly ripped open exposing her intestines, but she was free. With intestines dangling, she chased that rooster for a hundred yards and made the retrieve. Toughness? Determination? Bravery? You name it. Wagner’s Doc Dressler sewed her back together, but that ended her hunting for the season.

Brown’s obedience was extraordinary. Her home was a blanket-straw pile in our pole barn. When it was extremely cold, we allowed her to bed in our home’s entryway, but she was not to enter the house. On one particular afternoon, I caught Lisa, our middle daughter, trying to get Brown to enter our kitchen through the entryway. Brown’s body shook and quivered, but she wouldn’t budge. Lisa then paved the floor a yard inside the kitchen with cold cuts, but Brown still wouldn’t move. Lisa certainly deserved a good spanking, but I can’t recall ever spanking her.

If you want to read more about this amazing dog, read “Brown’s Diary” in my first book, A Dakota Rod and Nimrod. Some say it’s the best piece I’ve ever penned. Maybe I’ll use it for a future column.

See you next week.