The Revenge of Matt Pogue...

When I was in sixth grade, Ms. Carroll's class, Matt Pogue volunteered to read Where The Red Fern Growns in front of our class. Where The Red Fern Grows was a popular book in our parts. Both the book and later the movie were set in Oklahoma. The author was an Okie. In fact, Sand Spring's (my home town) very own Jeanna Wilson (one grade ahead of me) played the little sister in the 1974 movie version of the film. She plays a part in my own little demented game of Six Degrees of Separation.

Dig this. I knew Jeanna Wilson who was in the movie, Where The Red Fern Grows. Beverly Garland played her Mom. Ms. Garland played Barbara on the TV show (one of my favorites) My Three Sons, which also starred William Demarest, better known as Uncle Charlie. Mr. Demarest was in the 1964 classic, Viva Las Vegas with ELVIS! If you know me well, you know it always comes around to Elvis. I'm a freak. Freely admit that. But, if my math is correct (it usually isn't) that is four degrees of separation between me and the King! Thank You, thank you very much.

Back to Matt Pogue, who by the way, had an Uncle who was an actual Astronaut, he wrote a book How Do You Go To Bathroom In Space. For about a week, Matt read Where The Red Fern Grows . It was our story time. Late in the day. Matt would go up in front of the class and read for about an hour, while the class listened, wrote notes, slept, shot spit balls, drew nasty cartoons, etc. I'm assuming most have either read the book, or seen the movie - it isn't a happy ending. There is a grisly accident, and later, the two dogs die. Pretty sad stuff, not as sad as say, Old Yeller, but pretty sad. Matt started crying when the dogs died. Remember, he is reading to the class. Gets to the sad part, and just starts balling. So bad, he can't continue. Suddenly, his droning narrative is replaced with sobbing. I'm talking hard sobbing. So bad, he can't catch his breath, has to leave the room and go into the hall and be comforted by Ms. Carroll. As you probably guessed, this wasn't the smartest thing to do in front of 20 or so six graders. Damn, kids, me included, are cruel and callous when they are in a pack. We gave Matt Pogue shit for years. He didn't live it down until High School, and then, it still would pop up from time to time. To this day, part of me laughs when I tell this story. I don't tell the story to make fun of Matt. I'm not laughing at him, or even with him for that matter. Hell, I don't even know where Matt Pogue is these days. Last time I saw him was in September of 1993 at Tom Brandt's wedding. We were pretty good friends in High School and College, and then drifted apart as people often do. The thing is, I've thought of him often the past week, since Carter had the strength and resolve to do the right thing, and put Sophie to sleep.

I have a deep sadness, that I don't know how to express. I need to go out into the hall and cry (I could pass on the comforting from Ms. Carroll - I always thought she was a maniacal bitch.) I keep looking for Dog Dog. In the old places. The house seems emptier. Her bed is gone, and her space by the hearth is now being used by the Little Warrior's saucer. Her food tray/bowls are gone from the dining room. There's no click click of her nails on the hardwoods. No attempts to eat Ethan's left over crumbs, and scraps during and after dinner.

I usually ramble, and then say, but I have a point. Here it is. I'm not sure about my point today. I just know that I'm deeply saddened by the loss of a dog and not sure how to express it. That is why I'm thinking of Matt Pogue - or his sixth grade version. Even at that young of age, he had the courage to express himself.

I'll leave you a quintessential Sophie pic. The story: I'm giving Ethan a bath. Dog Dog was always a nervous dog. In the early days (this is an older pic - dating July 2002) with the Elder Boy, she'd come back during bathtime to check on us. If she ever got nervous she'd always walk the floors, do her rounds in the house. Just something she did. The click click of her nails on the tile/hardwood floors of our home. I caught her here, in this pic,, looking in on us at bathtime. I miss the click click sound.

Until I BLOG again...

Update - Ethan question - off and on since Sophie was put to sleep.
Cue the sad music.
Ethan: Where Sophie?
Me: Sophie's gone Son.
Ethan: Go find her. Find her. Find her. FIND her!
Me: Dog Dog's gone for good. She's dead (not sure If this is the right thing to tell a 2 year old? He doesn't get the concept.)
Ethan: Sophie?! Sophie?! (calling out to her, like she's in another part of the house, or out back.) Find her. FIND HER!
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Kroger parking lot - out of the blue
Ethan: Find Sophie. Gotta find Sophie.
Me/Carter: She's gone Son.
Ethan: Miss her.

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