When we were kids, we weren't really expecting to have a pet though we did mope around giving none too subtle hints. I wanted a black cat; my brother, he wanted a dog.
Then one afternoon, just out of the blue, our granddad came home from work carrying a mysterious box. He was all grins as he set the box down and we looked inside. It was a puppy! It wasn't a cat, but at least he was black. Grandmother wasn't too happy, but she grew to love the little guy.
We had had him only a few days and he still wasn't named. I remember sitting in the backseat of Grandmother's Pontiac Lemans, and it was a cold rainy day. Suddenly, I thought of the name Velvet to which my brother objected mightily. The name stuck.
Of course Velvet wasn't exactly like his name. He was just the opposite. I remember walking him in the backyard with a leash, and some kids came down the sidewalk hitting the redwood fence with a stick. Well, Velvet took it as a challenge and went racing across the yard at full speed, with me in tow. Literally... I couldn't do a thing except to stay attached to the leash since my hand was caught in the leather loop, and get splinters all up and down one side as I was dragged along the fence line.
He hated to be teased, which we regrettably found out. He was barking one day and was told, "You hush up," which was emphasized with a pointed finger. From that day forth, we knew not to be so rude as to point our fingers at him.
He was one of the most opinionated canines I've ever had the fortune to meet. If he didn't like something, he'd gripe at you about it. If someone happened to 'cut the cheese' as it were, he'd grumble and growl generally putting up such a fuss that you'd think he was someone's prim and proper old maiden aunt.
He definitely did not condone anyone messing with his food until he was darn well finished - which meant most times he'd munch on one bowl of food all day. No one could give him bath with the exception of my brother who would pick Velvet up and carry him to the tub all the while having to listen to growls and unmentionable dog threats. Velvet just did not like to get wet.
When we went Christmas shopping, we always would buy the pets a present too. As a whim one Christmas, we wrapped his present to see what he would do and placed it beneath the tree. He sat there watching us kids tearing open our presents and listening to our squeals of happiness.
Finally it was his turn. His present was placed before him. He sat and looked at it. He studied it for some time looking like he was thinking this strange object through. Apparently he made up his mind of how to act and furiously ripped the wrapping paper from his gift, snatched it up and went prancing around the living room wagging his tail and quite pleased with himself.
Grandmother used to have a huge vegetable garden in the backyard, and one day she took him out with her while she picked peas and okra. He watched her for a while then began to snap off the peas and bring them to her wicker basket to drop them in. From then on, he was her helper in the garden until grandmother's health wouldn't allow it.
In September of 1976, Aunt Lillian passed away unexpectedly. The family went to visitation at Dudley M. Hughes Funeral Home. My brother refused to go, so he stayed home and watched T.V.
When we returned, we found the front door locks tore up, my brother with a black eye and busted lip. He told us a black man he had never seen before kicked open the front door while he was in the kitchen. My brother, big for his age and strong as an ox fell to defending the home and himself. Velvet got there just after he began to beat my brother and latched onto the intruder's ankle and wouldn't let go. This gave my brother the opening he needed. While the guy was busy trying to save his ankle, he was kicked in the chest and out the door. This had happened only a short time before we returned home. The police was called, but the person was never found. The next morning, Granddad went to Ace Hardware and purchased a deadbolt and new doorknob. We had never had a deadbolt before until then.
In the early afternoon of September 16, 1983, Velvet began to scream. We knew it was bad. My brother was working with Granddad, so Grandmother, Mother, and I got Velvet in the backseat of that old Lemans and tore off to the vet. He cried and screamed all the way as I held him in my arms, and it seemed like it took forever to get there. By the time we arrived, he could barely hold his head up. Dr. McKinney diagnosed a massive coronary thrombosis, and there was nothing to do except to except to alleviate his pain by euthanasia.
Velvet was born September 16th, and passed away on September 16th, on his 16th birthday.
Then one afternoon, just out of the blue, our granddad came home from work carrying a mysterious box. He was all grins as he set the box down and we looked inside. It was a puppy! It wasn't a cat, but at least he was black. Grandmother wasn't too happy, but she grew to love the little guy.
We had had him only a few days and he still wasn't named. I remember sitting in the backseat of Grandmother's Pontiac Lemans, and it was a cold rainy day. Suddenly, I thought of the name Velvet to which my brother objected mightily. The name stuck.
Of course Velvet wasn't exactly like his name. He was just the opposite. I remember walking him in the backyard with a leash, and some kids came down the sidewalk hitting the redwood fence with a stick. Well, Velvet took it as a challenge and went racing across the yard at full speed, with me in tow. Literally... I couldn't do a thing except to stay attached to the leash since my hand was caught in the leather loop, and get splinters all up and down one side as I was dragged along the fence line.
He hated to be teased, which we regrettably found out. He was barking one day and was told, "You hush up," which was emphasized with a pointed finger. From that day forth, we knew not to be so rude as to point our fingers at him.
He was one of the most opinionated canines I've ever had the fortune to meet. If he didn't like something, he'd gripe at you about it. If someone happened to 'cut the cheese' as it were, he'd grumble and growl generally putting up such a fuss that you'd think he was someone's prim and proper old maiden aunt.
He definitely did not condone anyone messing with his food until he was darn well finished - which meant most times he'd munch on one bowl of food all day. No one could give him bath with the exception of my brother who would pick Velvet up and carry him to the tub all the while having to listen to growls and unmentionable dog threats. Velvet just did not like to get wet.
When we went Christmas shopping, we always would buy the pets a present too. As a whim one Christmas, we wrapped his present to see what he would do and placed it beneath the tree. He sat there watching us kids tearing open our presents and listening to our squeals of happiness.
Finally it was his turn. His present was placed before him. He sat and looked at it. He studied it for some time looking like he was thinking this strange object through. Apparently he made up his mind of how to act and furiously ripped the wrapping paper from his gift, snatched it up and went prancing around the living room wagging his tail and quite pleased with himself.
Grandmother used to have a huge vegetable garden in the backyard, and one day she took him out with her while she picked peas and okra. He watched her for a while then began to snap off the peas and bring them to her wicker basket to drop them in. From then on, he was her helper in the garden until grandmother's health wouldn't allow it.
In September of 1976, Aunt Lillian passed away unexpectedly. The family went to visitation at Dudley M. Hughes Funeral Home. My brother refused to go, so he stayed home and watched T.V.
When we returned, we found the front door locks tore up, my brother with a black eye and busted lip. He told us a black man he had never seen before kicked open the front door while he was in the kitchen. My brother, big for his age and strong as an ox fell to defending the home and himself. Velvet got there just after he began to beat my brother and latched onto the intruder's ankle and wouldn't let go. This gave my brother the opening he needed. While the guy was busy trying to save his ankle, he was kicked in the chest and out the door. This had happened only a short time before we returned home. The police was called, but the person was never found. The next morning, Granddad went to Ace Hardware and purchased a deadbolt and new doorknob. We had never had a deadbolt before until then.
In the early afternoon of September 16, 1983, Velvet began to scream. We knew it was bad. My brother was working with Granddad, so Grandmother, Mother, and I got Velvet in the backseat of that old Lemans and tore off to the vet. He cried and screamed all the way as I held him in my arms, and it seemed like it took forever to get there. By the time we arrived, he could barely hold his head up. Dr. McKinney diagnosed a massive coronary thrombosis, and there was nothing to do except to except to alleviate his pain by euthanasia.
Velvet was born September 16th, and passed away on September 16th, on his 16th birthday.
When we were kids, we weren't really expecting to have a pet though we did mope around giving none too subtle hints. I wanted a black cat; my brother, he wanted a dog.
Then one afternoon, just out of the blue, our granddad came home from work carrying a mysterious box. He was all grins as he set the box down and we looked inside. It was a puppy! It wasn't a cat, but at least he was black. Grandmother wasn't too happy, but she grew to love the little guy.
We had had him only a few days and he still wasn't named. I remember sitting in the backseat of Grandmother's Pontiac Lemans, and it was a cold rainy day. Suddenly, I thought of the name Velvet to which my brother objected mightily. The name stuck.
Of course Velvet wasn't exactly like his name. He was just the opposite. I remember walking him in the backyard with a leash, and some kids came down the sidewalk hitting the redwood fence with a stick. Well, Velvet took it as a challenge and went racing across the yard at full speed, with me in tow. Literally... I couldn't do a thing except to stay attached to the leash since my hand was caught in the leather loop, and get splinters all up and down one side as I was dragged along the fence line.
He hated to be teased, which we regrettably found out. He was barking one day and was told, "You hush up," which was emphasized with a pointed finger. From that day forth, we knew not to be so rude as to point our fingers at him.
He was one of the most opinionated canines I've ever had the fortune to meet. If he didn't like something, he'd gripe at you about it. If someone happened to 'cut the cheese' as it were, he'd grumble and growl generally putting up such a fuss that you'd think he was someone's prim and proper old maiden aunt.
He definitely did not condone anyone messing with his food until he was darn well finished - which meant most times he'd munch on one bowl of food all day. No one could give him bath with the exception of my brother who would pick Velvet up and carry him to the tub all the while having to listen to growls and unmentionable dog threats. Velvet just did not like to get wet.
When we went Christmas shopping, we always would buy the pets a present too. As a whim one Christmas, we wrapped his present to see what he would do and placed it beneath the tree. He sat there watching us kids tearing open our presents and listening to our squeals of happiness.
Finally it was his turn. His present was placed before him. He sat and looked at it. He studied it for some time looking like he was thinking this strange object through. Apparently he made up his mind of how to act and furiously ripped the wrapping paper from his gift, snatched it up and went prancing around the living room wagging his tail and quite pleased with himself.
Grandmother used to have a huge vegetable garden in the backyard, and one day she took him out with her while she picked peas and okra. He watched her for a while then began to snap off the peas and bring them to her wicker basket to drop them in. From then on, he was her helper in the garden until grandmother's health wouldn't allow it.
In September of 1976, Aunt Lillian passed away unexpectedly. The family went to visitation at Dudley M. Hughes Funeral Home. My brother refused to go, so he stayed home and watched T.V.
When we returned, we found the front door locks tore up, my brother with a black eye and busted lip. He told us a black man he had never seen before kicked open the front door while he was in the kitchen. My brother, big for his age and strong as an ox fell to defending the home and himself. Velvet got there just after he began to beat my brother and latched onto the intruder's ankle and wouldn't let go. This gave my brother the opening he needed. While the guy was busy trying to save his ankle, he was kicked in the chest and out the door. This had happened only a short time before we returned home. The police was called, but the person was never found. The next morning, Granddad went to Ace Hardware and purchased a deadbolt and new doorknob. We had never had a deadbolt before until then.
In the early afternoon of September 16, 1983, Velvet began to scream. We knew it was bad. My brother was working with Granddad, so Grandmother, Mother, and I got Velvet in the backseat of that old Lemans and tore off to the vet. He cried and screamed all the way as I held him in my arms, and it seemed like it took forever to get there. By the time we arrived, he could barely hold his head up. Dr. McKinney diagnosed a massive coronary thrombosis, and there was nothing to do except to except to alleviate his pain by euthanasia.
Velvet was born September 16th, and passed away on September 16th, on his 16th birthday.
Then one afternoon, just out of the blue, our granddad came home from work carrying a mysterious box. He was all grins as he set the box down and we looked inside. It was a puppy! It wasn't a cat, but at least he was black. Grandmother wasn't too happy, but she grew to love the little guy.
We had had him only a few days and he still wasn't named. I remember sitting in the backseat of Grandmother's Pontiac Lemans, and it was a cold rainy day. Suddenly, I thought of the name Velvet to which my brother objected mightily. The name stuck.
Of course Velvet wasn't exactly like his name. He was just the opposite. I remember walking him in the backyard with a leash, and some kids came down the sidewalk hitting the redwood fence with a stick. Well, Velvet took it as a challenge and went racing across the yard at full speed, with me in tow. Literally... I couldn't do a thing except to stay attached to the leash since my hand was caught in the leather loop, and get splinters all up and down one side as I was dragged along the fence line.
He hated to be teased, which we regrettably found out. He was barking one day and was told, "You hush up," which was emphasized with a pointed finger. From that day forth, we knew not to be so rude as to point our fingers at him.
He was one of the most opinionated canines I've ever had the fortune to meet. If he didn't like something, he'd gripe at you about it. If someone happened to 'cut the cheese' as it were, he'd grumble and growl generally putting up such a fuss that you'd think he was someone's prim and proper old maiden aunt.
He definitely did not condone anyone messing with his food until he was darn well finished - which meant most times he'd munch on one bowl of food all day. No one could give him bath with the exception of my brother who would pick Velvet up and carry him to the tub all the while having to listen to growls and unmentionable dog threats. Velvet just did not like to get wet.
When we went Christmas shopping, we always would buy the pets a present too. As a whim one Christmas, we wrapped his present to see what he would do and placed it beneath the tree. He sat there watching us kids tearing open our presents and listening to our squeals of happiness.
Finally it was his turn. His present was placed before him. He sat and looked at it. He studied it for some time looking like he was thinking this strange object through. Apparently he made up his mind of how to act and furiously ripped the wrapping paper from his gift, snatched it up and went prancing around the living room wagging his tail and quite pleased with himself.
Grandmother used to have a huge vegetable garden in the backyard, and one day she took him out with her while she picked peas and okra. He watched her for a while then began to snap off the peas and bring them to her wicker basket to drop them in. From then on, he was her helper in the garden until grandmother's health wouldn't allow it.
In September of 1976, Aunt Lillian passed away unexpectedly. The family went to visitation at Dudley M. Hughes Funeral Home. My brother refused to go, so he stayed home and watched T.V.
When we returned, we found the front door locks tore up, my brother with a black eye and busted lip. He told us a black man he had never seen before kicked open the front door while he was in the kitchen. My brother, big for his age and strong as an ox fell to defending the home and himself. Velvet got there just after he began to beat my brother and latched onto the intruder's ankle and wouldn't let go. This gave my brother the opening he needed. While the guy was busy trying to save his ankle, he was kicked in the chest and out the door. This had happened only a short time before we returned home. The police was called, but the person was never found. The next morning, Granddad went to Ace Hardware and purchased a deadbolt and new doorknob. We had never had a deadbolt before until then.
In the early afternoon of September 16, 1983, Velvet began to scream. We knew it was bad. My brother was working with Granddad, so Grandmother, Mother, and I got Velvet in the backseat of that old Lemans and tore off to the vet. He cried and screamed all the way as I held him in my arms, and it seemed like it took forever to get there. By the time we arrived, he could barely hold his head up. Dr. McKinney diagnosed a massive coronary thrombosis, and there was nothing to do except to except to alleviate his pain by euthanasia.
Velvet was born September 16th, and passed away on September 16th, on his 16th birthday.
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