Spot

 

The dog of Grandmother's that I remember was Spot. Spot was an English Bull Terrier, a big white dog with a black spot over one eye. Bob sent him to her from Mexico while he was working on his father in law’s ranch. WWII was grinding on, about to enter its fifth year, none of Grandmother’s children or grandchildren were left at home, and she was lonesome.

            She confided in Bob in a letter so he sent Spot, a lion dog. English Bull Terriers are big and strong and were used by the ranchers down in Mexico to hunt cougars, which sometimes attack their herds. Maybe not the ideal pet for an elderly lady, but Grandmother wasn’t your average spinster. She gave Spot all the love he needed to make him a loyal, devoted companion.

            Tom, my mother’s youngest brother, came home every once in a while. He was living in Oklahoma City at the time where he owned a bar. Uncle Tom was like a big kid, and he loved animals. He had an Arabian Horse. It was small but beautiful, blonde with a long flowing mane and tail. He called her “Lady” and taught her to kneel, to prance and to follow commands he gave by pressing her sides with his feet and knees. At home he made Spot feel like a puppy again, running with him through the house. I remember one time Tom ran into the dining room with Spot on his heels. Tom ran across the room and Spot jumped on the dining room table, sliding across with tablecloth, salt and pepper shaker, and flower vase all landing on the floor on the other side. At this point Grandmother sprang into action, grabbing her broom and swinging it at Tom as she chased him through the house.

            Spot had one ability which made him quite famous in the neighborhood. He could climb trees. Grandmother’s yard wasn’t completely enclosed, but there was a fence bordering the street and sidewalk on one side. In order to give Spot a little fresh air, Grandmother would tie him to a Chinaberry tree next to the fence. It wasn’t long before he learned to climb up on a tree branch to watch the cars and people go by. He made a lot of friends that way, and caused a lot of double takes by people driving by. It wasn’t unusual for drivers to circle the block just to make sure that really was a dog sitting in the tree.

            The following is from a letter Grandmother wrote in 1946. She describes getting in late one night:              

I went out to see Spot. he came to the fence to look at me. neither one of us spoke. then I came in to see if I could find anything for him to eat. & there wasn’t one scrap of anything so I cooked him some oat meal & took that to him & then when I came in he cride, so now I bring him in & let him sleep in the rocking chair.      

      

                                    Grandmother and Spot
   

 

Bob Dog

 

The dog my mother Wenonah remembered from her childhood was “Bob Dog.” The Dog part of the name was necessary because Wenonah’s younger brother was also named Bob. 

Bob Dog was a bull dog. The picture below doesn’t look much like a bull dog to me, but it’s the one Wenonah identified. She was getting older and her eyesight was failing when she told me, but I’ll show the picture anyway since it’s the only one I have.         

                                                                   Bob Dog 

Wenonah’s older brother, Willie, originally bought two bull dogs. The other was named Queen, but Queen didn’t work out.  After Willie brought the dogs home he was in the yard talking to a friend of his, and Queen charged them. Before anyone could react, Bob Dog ran in front of Queen and knocked her away. So Willie got rid of Queen, and Bob Dog instantly won the trust and gratitude of the family. 

After that, Bob Dog became part of the family. He was playmate to Wenonah’s younger brother Tom and her younger sister Oteka. Grandmother liked to work on her quilts upstairs in Willie’s bedroom over the porch. Wenonah’s older sister Kaliteyo would sit with her and help thread her needles. As they worked, they would watch the children play, and later, Kaliteyo would entertain the family with stories of their antics. Bob Dog patiently followed Teker and Tom around the yard, even as they dressed him in old shirts and shorts, harnessed him to their wagon, and tied tin cans to his tail. 

Wenonah was more in charge of Bob Dog’s practical necessities, like food, which he liked, and baths, which he didn’t. Mamma would say, “Jim, Bob Dog needs a bath,” and he knew what she meant. “Sometimes I could catch him,” Wenonah said, “but if I didn’t, he would leave and be gone for a week.” Wenonah said that he went to “West Town,” the “colored” part of town. “He had a girl friend over there,” she said. 

Bob dog was big and strong, but he did have one weakness, and that was thunderstorms. Wenonah said that as soon as he heard the first clap of thunder he would run into Mamma’s room and hide under her bed. That usually worked fine, along with a few comforting pats from whomever was nearby, but one evening when the clouds started gathering, Bob Dog found himself alone, trapped in the dining room. Mamma had taken the children to the movies. Mamma’s dining room was separated from the rest of the house, and from Mamma’s bedroom, by sliding doors. They were huge, and heavy, more of a partition than doors, and they were covered by heavy green velvet curtains. They were pretty, with a fleur de lis pattern embroidered along the bottom. Unable to get through the door to Mamma’s room, Bob Dog attacked those curtains, tearing them with his teeth and with his claws. By the time the family got home from the movies, they were in shreds. 

Bob Dog also possessed that supernatural connection to the family members that some dogs seem to have. When Wenonah was at OU, and would ride the bus home for a visit, Bob Dog always met her as she walked home. Somehow he knew she was coming. Oteka said he met her too. 

Bob Dog met with an untimely end. With Wenonah, Bob, and Tom away at school, and Kaliteyo and Oteka married, he spent more and more time away from home. One day he came home cut in several places and bleeding. It was his last trip to West Town. Bob Dog died in Mamma’s arms.  

She Cried Like Mamma Was Whippin' Her with the Ironin' Cord

I don't want to imply that Jim and Bob got away with fighting and breaking the glass in the back door without any punishment. Mamma tried her best to make them behave. Jim said that she gave them a lot of spankings, mostly for fighting.

All of Mamma's children got spankings, and the younger children sometimes got advice from their older siblings on how to avoid punishment. Jim said that Snip told Haskell if he cried real loud during a spanking Mamma would feel sorry for him. I doubt if this worked more than once or twice.

Jim's brother Bob had a little dog named Ring that was protective of him, and she said, "Ring would try to take the switch away from Mamma when she spanked Bob, and she would get tickled and stop."

Mamma had different levels of spankings. When the children were little she would hold their heads between her knees and slap their bottoms with her hands. As the children got older she used a switch. Since Jim and Bob were always together, they usually got spanked together. Jim said, "Mamma would tell each of us to go get a switch for the other. I would get a normal sized switch and Bob would pick out a 'limb' for me." Mamma's youngest children, Oteka and Tom, got into trouble together too, and although it was Jim's opinion that they got off easily, Oteka told the same story about Tom.

For the worst offenses Mamma would get out the 'ironing cord.' This was the removable cord that connected the iron to the electrical socket. The ironing cord was strong; it was narrow enough to sting, and its surface was rough enough to scratch the skin. The ironing cord would bring tears to even the toughest of Mamma's boys.

Once when I was little my Uncle Tom and Aunt Kaliteyo went to the show together. They were both single and sometimes they would double date. The next day they were both over at our house and Tom was teasing Kaliteyo about crying in the movie. He said, "Kaliteyo cried just like Mamma had been whippin' her with the ironin' cord."