Boomer was my dog when I was growing up. I think I got him when I was six or seven. I am not sure my mom and dad wanted another dog, but they probably thought that a dog was a good friend for a young boy. And he was. I loved Boomer. He was a mix of a cocker spaniel and a poodle, sometimes referred to as a cockapoo.
He was an attentive dog and loved to play. The worst day of my young life was when Boomer went running across our street and got hit by a car. It was just a back leg, but that was pretty traumatic. We took him, got him in a cast and he was good to go. What a scare, though. My brothers and I were all crying, but my mom didn’t shed a tear. I think she would have cried if it had been one of us run over, but a dog was not at that level for her.
If we had the Internet back then, we would have gotten our pet supplies that way, but I think we would get whatever Boomer ate at the local grocery store.
Boomer lived to be about thirteen or fourteen and we had to finally put him down. Because of the previous broken leg, he couldn’t walk anymore and he had started to lose his continence. He was peeing everywhere and couldn’t control it.
But what memories. Dogs truly are, I believe, given by God to man to show the kind of unconditional love that God has for us. They don’t really think about it. They just love us unconditionally.
