Skippy was my first dog. My father found him when I was in
second grade. The mother of the family that had adopted him
turned out to be allergic. Skippy was just a puppy at the
time and we fed him Cheerios until he graduated to dog food.

My mother agreed to letting me have a dog only if he stayed
outside. He was never allowed in the house except when he
went straight to the basement for a bath. My dad built an
insulated doghouse which we moved inside the garage for the
winters.

When I was a high school senior, Skippy went to the woods
with my parents and was hit by a car along with the neighbor
dog.