Jules.

This is the "Jules" referred to in the Blast From the Past post. It was taken in the winter of 1976 when Bill and I lived in Mr. Smith old trailer on the dairy farm at the headwaters of the Allegheny River.

I adopted him from a friend of my sister's when I was about fifteen and was blessed to call him mine for five glorious years. The story she related to me was that she stole him from a NY State Police officer who had 'taken advantage' of her. She couldn't keep him because she was thumbing to California  and didn't want him slowing her down.


He was beautiful, well-mannered and a great listener. How could he not be a great listener with those big ears, eh? He only had one rather odd trait that I can recall: he didn't like men in uniform and would growl when he saw a postman or police officer. Given the chance there is no doubt in my mind that he would have bitten them.

Jules and I went everywhere together. He was my walking and hitch-hiking buddy. Saved me from creeps of all kinds. On more than one occasion he got between myself and another to keep me from harm. Both dirty old men and angry boyfriends.

When my husband made me give him up so we could take baby Susie and move cross-country  to the sweltering heat of Texas - I was heartbroken. Good thing hearts mend given enough time. Another good thing was that he was adopted by a family with two small girls. I know he had a good life with them because I saw him on occasion with them. He was a good dog.

Still though of as a cherished family member. Always.