The Interloper: Tip
We did have a dog – or at least PART of a dog – for a year or two. A stray “adopted” my friend Barry’s family and ours. He was a foxhound; a fairly large dog, white with brown liver-shaped spots with a brown tail with a white tip. Being a supremely imaginative bunch, we named him “Tippy.” Because he was so large and stray that chose to stay out at night even though he did seem to enjoy coming into our houses, we “shared” him. However, we weren’t the only families he glombed on to as my neighbors also would welcome him into their homes and feed him, too. At night, in the warm months, he would sleep on Barry’s “glider” – a metal sofa that swung back and forth on tracks. In the winter, he slept in what ever home he had his last meal, though late at night he would go out.
I have a b & w picture of my mother giving Tip a bath in the side of our backyard in a large scrubbing tub with him sitting up and looking into my brother’s camera.
Then, suddenly, Tip disappeared. We had no idea why or where but we never saw him again. We thought he had been found by his owner, finally, or moved on to greener pastures.
Years later, my parents told me that Tip had been hit and killed by a car some blocks away and all the parents had decided not to tell any of us. Sort of the equivalent of saying a dog that died was sent to a farm, upstate, where he would be playing and running and having a great time – only we believed it. He was the only dog I ever had though I still really like them, just not enough to want to walk them 2 or 3 times a day.
When they let it slip out, my parents told me NOT to tell the Barry and Perry [our co-owners] about it but I couldn’t restrain myself and had to call them as in the interim they had both moved away. They, especially Barry, were crushed as all of us had believed/hoped that Tip was living somewhere happily with some other families.
Another lesson possibly learned: don’t let dogs out unleashed and un-neutered.
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