Up & Coming Weekly

Dogs I Have Known and Loved by PITT DICKEY I recently heard Jerry Jeff Walker’s immortal song, “Mr. Bojangles,” on the radio. It got me thinking about the dogs who have improved my life over the years. This column is a tribute to a parade of most excellent dogs. “Mr. Bojangles” has the saddest lyrics ever composed in the English language. We meet Mr. Bojangles in a jail cell in New Orleans. The B-man was in jail because he drinks a bit. Mr. Bojangles sustained his alcohol habit by dancing for drinks and tips. Then come the most sublime lyrics ever written, “He spoke with tears of fi fteen years how his dog and him traveled about/ His dog up and died, he up and died/ After twenty years he still grieves.” If you can listen to that line and not tear up just a little, you don’t have a heart, or even worse, may be a cat person. The fi rst dog I ever lived with was a small black dog named “Yip Yap.” His name represented his propensity to vocalize. I was about three when Yip Yap vanished into the mists of history. I remember being told that Yip Yap once got lost on the beach. My father was designated to round him up. Dad marched up the beach calling for “Blackie” because he was embarrassed to walk around yelling, “Yip Yap! Yip Yap!” The fi rst dog that I remember well was Tappy. Tappy claimed to be a fox terrier. We acquired Tappy when I was about fi ve. I recall riding home from the Daisy Hill Puppy farm with Tappy in the back seat of the car. He was a ball of happy squirming love. I was king of the world with my own dog. Then he pooped. Tappy moved with us to Fayetteville living to a ripe old age of about 10We lived next door to a cranky old guy who would grab our football if it went into his yard. I always suspected he had something to do with Tappy’s disappearance but I couldn’t prove it. Sage appeared my junior year in college. He was a beautiful combo German Shepherd/Collie. Sage actually belonged to someone else who lived in an apartment that didn’t allow dogs. Sage lived with me and 15 other guys in a fraternity house. He was not politically correct. He did not like children. He would eat cups, catch Frisbees before it was fashionable and would occasionally drink stale beer out of abandoned containers. Sage ran for Vice President of the Student Body at UNC Chapel Hill. He defeated several humans. He was disqualifi ed on a technicality that he wasn’t actually registered as a student. In fact, he attended a lot more classes than many human students. Max was dog number four. Max was a German Shepherd mix with a soul as big as West Texas. Max got kidnapped while I was in law school. He vanished without a trace. A couple of months later I walked into “He’s Not Here,” a Franklin Street bar. Suddenly a large mound of dirty hairy love jumped up on me from under a pinball machine. It was a very skinny Max. He had ended up on a farm and been happily rolling in cattle poop during his exile. We rolled around on the fl oor together agreeing we were the best thing the other one had ever seen. Max ultimately came to a sad end in Chatham county several years later, losing a dog fi ght to a pack of wild dogs. He came home to die. We found him on the front porch. I A House Not So Divided cried like a baby as I dug his grave. We had a transitional dog for about a year, Amos, a Russian Wolf Hound/Great Dane mix. When we moved to Fayetteville Amos was too big for a small back yard. He went to live in the country. Elvis, a red dachshund became our main dog for many years. Elvis was our most sincere dog. I think he channeled Max. Aside from his constant love for us, his main emotion was hunger. Elvis lived a long happy life until cancer took him away in his old age. We still have our auxiliary miniature dachshund, Nikko, who we got for our son Dan on his 16th birthday instead of a car. A car would have been cheaper. Nikko is a bundle of unresolved anxiety disorders not otherwise specifi ed. He is happiest when sleeping between us on the couch. He is afraid of birds and fl owers. His agoraphobia rules his life. But he is a sweet guy. I miss every one of my dogs. Like Mr. Bojangles, I always will. PITT DICKEY, Contributing Writer. COMMENTS? Editor@upandcomingweekly.com.              3006 Bragg Blvd. Fayetteville, NC 910.323.1791 6 UCW MAY 26-JUNE 1, 2010 ALL TEAM SPORTS          Mention this ad and receive 20% OFF* your next team purchase. *Restrictions apply. “TWO are better than ONE”  5613 Rockfish Road Hope Mills, NC 910.609.1791 WWW.UPANDCOMINGWEEKLY.COM

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