Our Dog Champ

When I was a kid, my brother, my mother and I were coming home from Easter Sunday church service when we encountered fire trucks on our block and wondered what was going on. To our horror we discovered that the fire trucks were there for our house.

The fire started in the basement where the furnace malfunctioned. Our father was on the second floor sleeping and our dog Champ barked and barked until Daddy woke up. Champ is our hero. Champ gave his life for our Dad.

My brother, Phil was devastated when the firemen lead us to the galvanized metal tub in the back yard containing the charred remains of our recently departed Champ. Phil took care of Champ. You know when a kid says they will take care of the dog, feed him, walk him and everything, well, Phil did all of that and more for Champ and every dog he has had since then.

As a 7 year old, the fire turned my little life upside down. I was fascinated by the aftereffects of the blaze. My Dad's paperback book collection was decimated, that was the worst thing second to Champ's death. Our clothes were untouched but reeked of smoke. Everything had to be cleaned. We collected what we could, because the next step was moving to an apartment until the house could be repaired.

I don't know any of the details of how that happened. My memory is like in a movie, suddenly we were in an apartment. What happened in between is missing. My brother, gathered Champ's collar and a couple doggie toys and put them into a box that he kept for years and years.

I don't know why this memory floated through my brain, but there it is.