Age 5, I had a Heinz 57 wire-haired terrier. United forces couldn't keep him away from me.
His "at-my-sideness" caused me much embarrassment. Sunday, church deacons volunteered to
stay outside to reject "Teddy". So our pastor is speeching the dedication of our new baptysmal
(just there, behind those long wine-colored drapes). He turns arm-sweep gesturing, the curtains
open displaying a glass-front pool, ice-blue water and Teddy's face turned to the congregation.
I'm sure he was staring at that water figuring how he could get a drink, when the magic of the
curtains opening caused him to turn to the crowd. Everybody knew Teddy. Everybody gave a
good ole Christian fellowship laugh. It seems with deacon-guarded front doors, Teddy found a
long board some carpenter left slanting into an open window at the backof the church. Teddy just
waltzed up. The church body finally gave up hampering Teddy's church access; it must've been
the will of God.
So, sitting in my pew waiting for my name to be called to get my "perfect attendance" Vacation Bible School diploma, my pastor called out "Teddy Harrison" and I had to march up to get Teddy's perfect attendance diploma; of course Teddy marched right by me.
That small community was called Cantonment, (Pensacola outpost). For Homecoming (I'm still 5),
the Moms of us 5 y.o.s sewed animal costumes, Dads built wood-slat cages atop red wagons. They were all strung together and pulled by tractor across the FB field like some circus parade. In front of
all those people shy me was fine. I was in disguise, no one knew who was who. Then, I heard a
wave of laughter wafting along the stands. I saw people pointing. I looked down the line and there, sniffing every cage, came Teddy. When he got to my cage he popped loose 2 slats and crowded in with me. I was the only creature everybody identified.