Memory: A Story from Childhood

About five years ago on my old blog I had a series called Memoir Monday, where I shared snippets from my life.  My plan is to revise them and share here either weekly or every other week.  I’m calling the series Tell a Memory Tuesday.

 

[bctt tweet=”I’d love for you to join me and share some memories of your own.” username=”GaylWright”]

 

memory Tuesday

 

To start off the series I will share a memory from childhood. Next I may jump ahead and begin with my wedding.

 

When the post was first written I combined prompts from a blogging class and a linkup. This post has been edited and updated. The two prompts were:

 

  1. Write a true story of a good memory from childhood.
  2. Why the story matters.

 

Memory: My First Puppy

 

The story of my first puppy is filled with memories both good and bad. I believe this story matters, because it shows that God cares even down to a child’s longing for a pet. It is also a story of how I had to deal with the death of that pet. It’s a part of growing up.

 

I don’t remember when I first realized I wanted a puppy, and I’m not sure my parents had money to spare for purchasing one. But when I was nine years old, one of my best friends, who also lived in my neighborhood, had some puppies to give away. 

 

memory at Christmas
This was me, age 9, at Christmas. That chord organ under the window was one of my gifts and I loved it.

 

She brought them all to my house and let them run around in the yard. One came running to me and melted my heart. Well, my parents consented and I had my dog, even though he had to stay outside. I wish I had a picture of him to show you. My dad gave me lots of ideas for a name, including Lancelot.

 

For some reason we settled on the name Leroy. I really have no idea where Daddy came up with that name. I had never heard of it in my nine short years of life. Here is Leroy’s story in poetry form:

 

My First Puppy

 

My first puppy at age nine,

was very dear you see.

Of all the puppies there in line,

he ran straight to me.

 

By my side he would stay,

that mutt so cute and brown.

And when my brothers, rough would play,

my pup would knock them down.

 

 

Walking to the library

one day with my class,

Imagine my surprise to see

him sitting in the grass.

 

My classmates were enthralled.

A dog had come to school!

Digging under the fence he’d crawled,

using his paws as tools.

 

How did he find his way

along that common mile?

He somehow knew just where to go

and how to make me smile.

~gsw~

 

 

Leroy Gets Sick

 

I don’t remember how many years I had Leroy, but one morning he was not acting himself. We realized he was sick. My dad told me it was distemper which was like pneumonia for a dog. Leroy did not get better.

 

[bctt tweet=”I remember the trip to the vet to say goodbye. He rode on my lap in the car, and I’m sure I was crying.” username=”GaylWright”]

 

My dad sympathized. He  understood how I felt. He said that he wished we had let him stay in the house the night that was so very cold.

 

Leroy was a short haired dog and probably couldn’t handle it the freezing temperatures. He slept in a sheltered storage area, but there was no heat in unless any came from the hot water heater. We lived in Florida, and I think the extreme cold that night might have come as a surprise.  

 

Alive in My Memory

 

Anyway, that’s the story as I remember it. I choose to remember the fun times I had with my very own dog. He really loved me, too, and was always with me. Leroy may have been just a mutt, but to me he was the best dog ever.

 

All those things in the poem really happened along with lots more. Leroy would actually jump and growl at my brothers if they pretended to hurt me. He always tried to protect me.

 

memory
This is me at age 10 along with my mother and two brothers.

 

Though I don’t have a picture of him, Leroy will live on in my memory. When I think of him, it takes me back to my childhood and so many memories flood my mind.

 

[bctt tweet=”What about you? Do you have a memory that stands out from your childhood? Please share if you’d like. I’d love to hear your stories.” username=”GaylWright”]

 

I’m linking up with: #TeaAndWord, #InspireMeMonday, #TuneInThursday

 

16 thoughts on “Memory: A Story from Childhood

  1. Gayl, I loved your childhood memory- Leroy.
    Your writing made me to think about my childhood memory….its all sweet and gifted memories..
    Thank You Gayl..God bless you!

  2. A sweet memory of a time when life was different. I didn’t have a dog to call my own until I was an adult. The pain of having to say goodbye never really goes away. Thanks for sharing this today Gayl!

    1. Thank you, Nancy. You’re right about the pain of having to say goodbye. I’m glad you enjoyed the post. And I’m glad you finally did get a dog of your own. Blessings to you, dear sister!

  3. What a fun series, Gayl. And I absolutely love those pictures of you as a child! I don’t have many old photos of my younger years, but the ones I have are precious to me. Thanks for sharing about Leroy.

    1. Thank you, Lisa! I was actually surprised that I found a photo of when I was 9. I’m not sure there are any more, unless my brother has more of my mom’s pictures. I’m glad you still have some photos. They do bring back memories. Thanks for reading about Leroy. Blessings to you! xo

  4. Thank you for re-posting this series Gayl! I am so looking forward to hearing more of your memories. And thank you for beginning with such a precious story about your beloved pet. It stirred up memories of special pets that I remember too. Those little creatures are surely good gifts from God! Blessings, love, and hugs Dear Sister! xoxo

    1. Thank you for being such a faithful, praying friend, dear Bettie. I’m glad you enjoyed the story of my dog and helped you remember special pets. 🙂 They really are gifts from God, aren’t they? Blessings, hugs and much love to you, dear sister/poet/friend! xoxo

  5. Your poem tells a sweet story about Leroy. Although I don’t have a special pet story from my childhood, I enjoyed summer vacations in Upper Michigan. The mornings that my brother and I got up very early to go fishing with my Dad is a special memory.

    1. Thank you, Carol. Those early summer mornings with your dad sound so special. What a treat! Thanks for sharing that. Blessings to you!

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