Ginger...

I have almost always had at least one dog in my life.  As a child the first one I remember was a toy poodle. I even remember the first day we got it, when we picked it up.  We drove to a house pretty far away from where I lived--it could have been two blocks, what did i know back then?  It was in our big red station wagon.  I don't know car models, but my memory of it was awesome!  I'd love to have one of those now... (digression) 

The puppy we got was light brown and furry, furry, furry!  They said that she would change colors. How strange! I had visions of purple one day, orange the next...  As she grew older she did change colors, from soft brown to almost white.  We named her Ginger.  We got her when I still lived in California, so I had to have been 4 or 5.  When we moved she made the long journey with us back east to where my parents grew up.  Their parents were getting old, so they wanted to be near them.  She grew up with my brother and sister and me, and was always there.  She never really did normal dog tricks, sit down, roll over, but she would jump up into our arms when we patted our chest.  She would get all crazy when we said "go for ride?"  She was a member of the family.  Whenever one of us was away from home and would call home long distance, we would not want to pay for the call on our end.  We wanted instead to call from the home phone.  So we would place a person to person call for "Ginger".  Of course, "Ginger" couldn't come to the phone, so she would have to call us back--at a lower rate from home, of course... 

She died my first semester of college, so I was 18.  I knew she would die sometime during that year, so I told my mom to not wait til I got home to tell me.  I wanted to know as soon as she died.  I wanted to remember her appropriately, in a timely way.  I got the call during finals week. 

After Ginger, my mom went exclusively to owning cats.  She said no dog could replace Ginger.  I agree.  RIP Ginger!