My first memory

My first memory is of when my (well, really, my family's) dog died. Tramatic, yes, but what I remeber best about it is that my uncle laughed at me! That was even more distressing. I remeber that my uncle had just brought us home from babysitting my brother and me. Dad was home, and he came out to greet us, and that's when he told me that Rosey, my (well, really, our) black lab, had been hit by a car and killed. I started to cry, and I hugged my dad. Then my uncle laughed and said, "I knew those tears would start soon." I hated that! I couldn't believe that a wonderful dog was dead, and I'd never see her again, and here was somebody laughing at my pain!

Looking back, perhaps my uncle wasn't laughing at me, although that's how it felt at the time. I think it shows, with suprising clarity, the egocentric feelings of the young child. Obviously, Rosey had been the family's, more my mom's and dad's really, because they were the ones who cared for her. But even to this day, when I think of Rosey, I think of her as my dog.