No one knows where he came from, but one day a Border Collie puppy walked in the back door and trotted right to me. I picked him up and sat down. Big puppy eyes looked at me then he curled in my arms and fell fast asleep. Talk about love at first hug.
As a single mom, I tried to teach my kids to do the right thing. The next day, I canvassed the neighborhood with Averie, five, and Tyler, six. We posted flyers announcing a found puppy; all the while, with fingers crossed, wishing no one would claim him.
A week later, and nary a call, we named him Leroy. He became the family Papa Bear; always watching and protecting. Whenever Averie had a tea party, she dressed Leroy in fancy outfits and painted his nails to match. He didn’t seem to mind, but I don’t think the bright yellow hat and purple boa were his favorites.
Tyler, a typical kid, never liked being told what to do, especially at bed time. I would put him to bed and he would sneak out and dash squealing and galloping from room to room. Leroy mustered up his herding skills and soon Tyler was back in bed. Today, I still wonder if it wasn’t some kind of game between the two of them.
Leroy liked everyone; well, everyone except our cantankerous neighbor, Miss Sally. She lived in her own world. Years ago, Miss Sally accidently stepped on Leroy’s tail and he’s kept on eye on her ever since.
Back in the day, Universal Studios contracted Miss Sally for the big screen. She’s always ready for another casting call, and still wears thick false eyelashes, high heels and thin, gray hair colored to a golden blond.
We had lots of gatherings at our home and Leroy was “Guard Dog on Duty.” At Averie’s seventh birthday party, Leroy took his job too seriously.
Averie got a new Barbie doll and lounged on the patio chair combing its long blond hair. Miss Sally promenaded around the pool wearing a pink polka dot bikini. Atop her head sat a flowered pink floppy hat and she drank straight tequila from a plastic coconut. When Miss Sally spotted Barbie, she strutted straight to Averie and in a deep Mae West voice said, “Honey, that doll looks just like me,” and yanked it away. Averie started to cry.
Leroy must have made some connection between Miss Sally and my crying kid, because he ran around the pool so fast lighting couldn’t catch him. Leroy executed a flying leap and nipped Miss Sally on her left butt cheek. She let out a piercing scream. Barbie went flying and Miss Sally belly-flopped right into the pool. When she surfaced, the hat was still on and the coconut was clenched in her hand.
I looked at Leroy. He sat with his chest puffed up looking like he had just won an Olympic medal for the long jump. In his mouth was a safe and spotless Barbie. Sure as heck, if dogs could smile, he was grinning from ear to ear. Needless to say, Miss Sally never came over again.
The kids are now in college and, alas, it’s just Leroy and me. I seem to read more and he seems to sleep more. Every once in a while I look over when he’s sleeping and can tell he’s dreaming deeply, his legs moving fast as the wind. I suspect he’s dreaming about how he protected Averie and Barbie from Miss Sally, because right there, I see that winning smile.
Brandy McKay is an adjunct professor in the restaurant industry. She recently moved from Los Angeles to Morro Bay. Additionally, she is a gourd artist and really enjoys being a member of the SLO Night Writers, for writers at all levels in all genres. Find them online at slonightwriters.org.
