What is more majestic for a kid than having a relationship with their dog?  To have a faithful companion that shows unconditional love and is always there for you is everything.  Well, that was the case in the 1970’s when we kids used to run around outside all the time; for my brothers and me, we had an extra member of the family to go with us on our little, fun adventures.

I was very young, but I still remember that day when this dog showed up at our house out of nowhere.  He was hiding underneath the car in the carport, and when I bent down and tried to pet him, he growled at me; that did not please my father, so he ran the dog off.  For some reason, the dog kept showing up at our house, so eventually, we gave him food and water and we were the happy owners of a new dog.  I do not remember who named him, but his name became Pojo.

Pojo was tan in color, had short hair, medium sized ears, brown eyes, and he was about medium height; I also remember he was pretty skinny, but all in all, he was a handsome dog.  My father made a bed for him under the bench in the storage room, and that is where Pojo slept, and my father would leave the door cracked so Pojo could come and go as he pleased.  It was often I would go to the storage room to pet him, or I would feed him and hang out with him so he would not get too lonely.

Pojo would follow me on all of my excursions; all I had to do was call his name and he would come running.  I remember times on the front porch of the house where Chad, Pojo and I would hang out; Chad and I took turns pretending to be in distress as we would lie down and solemnly call Pojo’s name, as he would rub his head on our face and neck trying to help us; he was a smart dog, and he obviously cared about us and our well being, and that made us love Pojo even more.

I would get on my trusty dirt bike and go to the store down the road, or I would go to Grandma Tilley’s house across the railroad tracks, or down to the creek with some friends; Pojo followed me everywhere, and he would even get into a fight or two and handle himself just fine.  I found that I worried about Pojo and his safety; I worried that he fought other dogs sometimes, and I worried he would get struck by a car; in fact, I am pretty sure he was nicked by a car or two trying to cross busy highway 70.

I remember several occasions when Pojo got lucky with the girl dogs in our neighborhood; it must have been his rugged good looks as to why he was always getting loving, or maybe he had a scent the girls could not resist.  Either way, that was the life of Pojo I guess; a dog once on the run who spent all his time outdoors.

As I got older, I would have less time to spend with Pojo, and as he got older he would go to Grandma Tilley’s house, because she would let him in the house out of fear he would get killed, and he loved being inside.  I guess all those years outdoors were finally getting to him, so eventually, he stayed at Grandma Tilleys for good.  I knew he was happy being inside and that he was safe there.  I would visit him sometimes when I got the chance.

Having a dog as a companion and best friend when I was young left a lasting impression on me.  I mean, we always had inside dogs that I loved also as long as I can remember, but with Pojo, we experienced adventures together, fun times, hard times, sad times, and happy times; sometimes it was just Pojo and me, and I often wonder where I would be today had I not had this wonderful pet to keep me from being lonely to the point of being sad; I guess being a kid can be tough now and again.  You are a good boy, Pojo!  I will see you again some day I am sure.

Take care, and God bless!

Chris