September 27, 2006

I come from a two-dog-household family

June 1973. Lakeside, New Orleans, La.

My dad is, and always has been, a sort of Dog Whisperer. He has a penchant for strays (guess that's where I get it) and both of these dogs were found and rescued by my parents. (Well, I say my parents, but really my dad. My mom said she was 7 months pregnant with Guy when my dad found Chandelle, a tiny puppy, and couldn't believe he'd bring home a 2nd dog when they had a baby on the way.)

They found Sugar in Utah - abandoned by a neighbor - and Chandelle in New Orleans, and both dogs made the move to Houston and saw the birth of both my parents' kids. Chandelle was epileptic and finally succumbed to a seizure when she was nine and I was about 6. I clearly remember my parents rushing to the emergency vet in the middle of the night (Grandma Jean was visiting and stayed at home with Guy and me), and they came back dogless.

Sugar, who by that time was 17 years old, as well as blind and deaf, stopped eating and died fairly soon after. We always said that she died of a broken heart.

Posted by hannah at 12:59 PM