mignionette XVI. we called her ‘minnie’. and she was beautiful. brown poodle, large for a ‘toy’ size. and she was smart.
we got minnie in kind of an animal rescue. she’d been kept in a cage by a college student that didn’t have time for a pet. she had issues.
she (like her son charlie, my friend, who came after) could take herself for walks. she loved to go to the schoolyard. she could climb the ladder on a ten foot high slide, just to slide down. not as a trick we trained her to do, just for fun.
but she was a terror. leave her at home, she’d go through all the dog-level cupboards, drag out every container of food, rip it to shreds, and grind it into the livingroom carpet.
so we made a doggy door in the laundry room, but kept the door to the rest of the house shut. she almost clawed through the wooden door. we put a sheet of metal on the door. she clawed up the linoleum trying to dig under the door.
we thought if we bred her, she’d calm down. we made a deal with an a.k.c. breeder for pick of the litter in lieu of stud fees, and so she came to be big with litter from ch. mister of touch?. the day she went into labor, she went under the patio. we were ready to rip up the patio to get her out, but we managed to coax her out.
it was late spring, nineteen seventy. early june? something like that. school was still in, i remember getting to stay home from school. i watched the puppies being born (charlie was among them).
motherhood did not settle her down; minnie continued to have issues. my parents decided we couldn’t keep her. i think i’ve blocked what happened. good home? green rolling hills, room to run? sitting on pillows being hand-fed bits of steak and bacon? something like that.