Babylou

I know I will forget to tell you the story of Babylou if I don't do it today. So here is a two, in a row post.

Babylou was the family pet of my Dad's brother. My dad is the middle child of my Grandparent's three children, Jim is the oldest, Dad, then my Auntie Ilene. Uncle Jim, his wife Edna, and their children: Lori, Pam, and Jay all lived in Milpitas, California. My Uncle Jim worked for Xerox there. They would come visit, usually every other summer and eventually moved to Oklahoma where they still live. My Uncle Jim's entire family was totally bizarre to me, they had so many strange and odd things about them, my sister and I would just marvel at how weird they were. We also marveled at how much Tiger, Julie (his sister) fought with them while they visited. Sis and I would just kind of stay back and watch the fireworks. I remember this one huge fight in the Grandparent's front yard over how much my cousin, Tiger, chewed his food. Lori and Pam were convinced everyone needed to chew their food 100 times before swallowing and they were just sure that Tiger was only chewing his food maybe 20 times. I know, I know, does it REALLY matter how much another person chews their food? That's just how they were though. There were other amazing quirks about them, but that's for another day (not tomorrow).

Babylou was the beloved pet of my bizarre Uncles family. She was a great dog, a beautiful German Shepherd that was smart as a whip. Babylou didn't think she was a dog because my Aunt and Uncle treated her better than their children. My Aunt Edna would immediately go int this goo-goo, ga-ga, baby talk every time she looked at Bab's. Coming from a family that kept their pets chained outside I always just starred at them in shock and disbelief. Bab's was expected to have full family privileges. If we were inside, so was she. If we ate, she ate. At Christmas we were all expected to have a Bab's present. In our family the Grandchildren all opened at once, first followed by the adults and then wrapped up by everyone watching Bab's. She would actually open the present, pick it up and take it to my Aunt Edna and then be told who to go lick in an expression of thanks.

At my uncle Jim's house, Bab's ruled the roost. She had her own couch which no one was to sit on, no one actually wanted to because it was coated in a thick layer of dog hair. When we ate, Bab's was right there perched by my Aunt Edna. Aunt Edna would take a bite of her food, then give Bab's a bite. Ice Cream cone: lick for you, lick for Bab--GROSS! I'm all for loving a pet but I will not share an ice cream cone with them no matter how much "they" say a dogs mouth is 10 times cleaner than a human. Anything that licks their own butt is not coming near my ice cream cone!

My cousin, Jay raised two cows on their land for FFA, Sora and Sugar, in high school for about two years they were "in the family." Any card we got from Aunt Edna was always signed: "Love, Uncle Jim, Aunt Edna, Pam, Lori, Jay, Babylou, Sora, and Sugar." Ever get a card from a cow? Lucky.

Babylou had to be put down because she had stomach cancer, and debilitating arthritis. My Uncle's family mourned her death for years. They were totally devastated. I have to admit that I miss Babylou, too. She can still get her own dad gum ice cream cone.