In my baby book my mom wrote that I spoke my first word when I was 7 months old and it was “doggie”. I’ve always liked dogs and usually had one as a companion until Tiger died of old age and senility. That was thirty years ago. In fact he was hit by a car while walking across the street to his favorite garbage can for a snack, but I like to think he was out of his mind, because the night before he got lost only a block from our home. I had looked diligently for him, but didn’t find him until the neighbor called and said he had been sitting on their porch all day and evening. They finally looked at his dog tags and saw my phone number. My first dog was Skippy, but he got run over by the street-watering truck. I didn’t have a dog while I was in college, nor one when in the Air Force, but soon after arriving in Berkeley, Tiger and I became attached and that lasted for about sixteen years.
I don’t remember when I became aware of girls. Not in the adolescent way, but just as people who wore different style clothes. In the aforementioned baby book there is this picture labeled, Charles and Ronnie Jo Yont. I googled that name but didn’t find her, but as you can see we made a cute couple.
Note the Superman lock of hair drooping over my forehead, and me looking so casual with the feminine attention. I’ve always liked feminine attention, and as a kid, probably a few months before this photo was taken, my mother’s girlfriends liked to pick me up and kiss my cheeks. I remember that because I didn’t like my feet dangling in the air.
A guy’s life can be made a lot better by dogs and girls.