The coastland times. [volume] (Mnateo [i.e. Manteo], N.C.) 1947-1959, 1957-06-28
@ I IN p S 6 S
THE PA ST
By CAROLYN LLOYD

Home is the place where when
you have to go there they have to
take you in" If Blackie could read,
I am sure he would approve of the
line by Robert Frost, for Blackie
evidently had the same sentiments
figured out by instinct. Last week
he put the idea to the test, and
sure enough it worked-he came
home and his family" had to take
him in.
Blackie is a dog, though just
what kind it would be hard to say.
He isn't even a pretty dog forgive
me, Freddie). As a puppy he went
to live with the Howard Voliva
family; and Freddie, the youngest
of the family, became deeply at
tached to him. Blackie's life was
very pleasant. During most of the
day he lay under my car if it hap
pened to be parked under the trees
in front of my house. In the late
afternoon he would bestir himself
to play with the children or visit
about with the other dogs in the
neighborhood. Having rested most
of the day, Blackie's social life
really began at night. AS soon as
everything had quieted down in the
neighborhood, he would summons
his friends to come and play. The
fayorite meeting place was under
the street light, and there Blackie
and his canine friends would ex-
change the news of the day. 1t was
obvious that they had no patience
with the dull human beings who
had so little Judgment that they
insisted on working and staying up
ala day and then expected to sleep
at night.
With such a pleasant life, it is
hard to understand why Blackie
began to develop bad habits. His
lack of consideration for his own
ers at night was one thing, but
running chickens was another.
Even Freddie's devotion could not
outweigh the fact that the dog was
definitely becoming a liability.
Biackie was given away to a family
who lived in the country, where
il was hoped that he would reform.
Alas, it didn't seem to work, and
enc of the children in Blackie,s
new family reported at school that
the dog had been shot. l was care
full not to mention the subject in
Freddie's presence and soon forgot
all about it.
One morning last week as / went
out to my car, was startled to see
reclining beneath it a black dog
"Mercy," l thought, "now Pm see
ing dog ghosts" A second look con-
WINGED me that this was no ghost,
but Blackie in the flesh. From
across the street Freddie called
joyfully, ave got my dog back"
The shooting of Blackie had been
an idea never carried out, it seems,
but he didn't appreciate the re-
prieve-just kept on with his bad
habits. Finally, his new owner took
him along on a trip to Washing
ton, casually let him out near the
city limits, and drove away. APP
proximately two months after he
had been given away, Blackie calm
ly reappeared at the Volivas. He
didn't bother to explain how he got
there, but the set of his head and
the flick of his tail seemed to be
saying, "Well, here l am; now
what are you going to do about
it,"
In the face of such devotion, or
arrogance, if you prefer, what
could his family do about it?
Blackie has resumed the pattern
of his days-under the car until the
sun goes down; then up to make a
night of it. The fact that he wasn't
welcomed home by brass band
doesn't worry him-he and Freddie
are happy.