So-named because my Dad found him dodging cars in a busy intersection and he "tagged along" to safety and a new home with us. At least that's the story I was told. The pictures were taken before I was born.
Taggie wasn't a big dog but he must have had spunk. A couple of years after these were developed, we moved to a town so small that it might have been a crossroads community if it had more than one road. The local dogs were bigger and there were sometimes horrendous fights that my Dad would break up with a blast into the air from a .410 shotgun. Much more portable than a garden hose.
Taggie died around 1966. Until last week I didn't know we had any pictures of him.
I had one dog as a child. When I was about twelve she was killed by a car. I would dearly love to have a picture of that dog. Alas...
ReplyDeleteIf your parents are anything like mine they have pictures in boxes and albums that they don't even remember that they have. We found those while going through pictures so we could identify who was in the older ones before the folks that took 'em aren't around anymore. One may turn up someday.
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