Firsts - a doggy

I am constantly reminded of my first dog because his name is one of the random security passwords for a site that I frequent. Yapper. I probably shouldn't tell you that, now my security could be breached. Damn. His name was Yapper. You know why? He yapped. He was a little dog. Black. Brown maybe. I really don't remember very much about him. I remember that my mother gave him to me and that was the last time I ever saw her. I remember he wasn't housebroken. I remember being 4/5 years old and thinking it SUCKS to wake up in the middle of the night to get a snack and step in dog shit. I remember being thankful that it was just a little dogshit - because after all, he was just a little dog. What I don't remember is kind of disturbing. I don't remember ever walking him, or watching my father walk him. I don't think he EVER got housebroken. I don't remember him ever not yapping. Mostly though I don't remember what happened to him. I remember moving and he didn't come with us. But I really don't remember if I was upset about it. Weird. I wonder what happened to him. I would like to think Yapper was adopted by our neighbors, given a yard and a nice house with soundproof walls for his new family and a Kong that was half the size of his body and he wasn't intimidated AT ALL by it. Hopefully he bit someone if they were mean to him. Hopefully he got a better name, like Gus or Rocky. I wonder if he fathered little Gusorrockys? For sure we didn't get him fixed if we couldn't even walk the little fucker. Man, I hope he was a he. Yapper would be a terrible name for a girl.

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