Just read Chimpos post on dogs ----

Back in the days of my boy life on the farm -- Dad always had two hunting dogs. All he had to do was step out the back door with rifle in hand and the dogs would go wild. Dad had trained these dogs from puppie hood on how he wanted them to be hunting dogs and do you know they would not hunt with any man except my dad. When youngest brother was a small tyke one of dads hunting dogs he acquired while little brother was still small. He was named "Sandy" (Little Orphan Annie). I think Sandy would have given his own life for little brother. Even when dad would spat little brothers butt Sandy would growl at him. Of course as life sped on - the years added up the dogs grew older and both died of old age. Dad never did get any more dogs. He and mom eventualy sold the farm and moved to the city. They both have passed on and I live in the seven room house they left. It's in dire need of repairs, but this ole man doesn't have the monie power to have the work done. Keeping my fingers crossed and hopeing and praying the house will stick together till I leave this ole world. Smiles and hugs Movieman -- love you all