Spot was my very first dog.
We had great times growing up together. I have many fond memories of him. I believe him to be a minature English Sheepdog. At least that was what the lady that gave us the pup said that he was. One of the earliest memories I have was when my friend Stan and I dipped the tip of his tail in melted hot parafin wax. Boy did we ever get in trouble with my Mom (and rightfully so). Spot was always with me everywhere I went. If my parents needed to find me, they would drive up the streets of Follett and see which store that Spot was in front of. It was a sure bet that I was in that particular store. In the summer's we were all over town and Spot was always there. One time we had gone up to the Chevrolet dealership and played in the old cars they had out back. That evening Spot didn't show up for supper scraps and I remember Dad asking where we had been. That Sunday afternoon we retraced our steps and found him panting in 90 degree weather in one of the cars. He certainly couldn't have lasted much longer. Spot had a great memory. There was once a kid that hit him and treated him bad. Five or six years later that kid was walking up the street and spot tore out and bit that kid. That was the only person I ever remember him biting. Spot was always on the front porch when I was there until he heard the back screen door slam. Then he would fly off the porch and run around to the back door to see if there were any scraps. We never really bought dog food for him, just fed him table scraps. I'm sure there were several nights he went hungry.