Freckles is a Girl: Remembering a Dog Next Door

Anonymous photo from The Old Car Manual Project: Brochures. 1957 Pontiac Chieftain four-door sedan. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pontiac_Chieftain
My folks had a 1957 Pontiac Chieftain four-door sedan, not unlike this one.

The house next door north from 818 went through several owners, residents at any rate, while my folks and I were living there.

I don’t remember anything about the folks or person who owned Freckles, but I remember the mid-sized dog.

Freckles may have been a particular sort of dog, but that’s another thing I don’t know about her. Think of a Cocker or English Springer Spaniel, and you’ve got a good idea of her appearance.1

Our next-door-north neighbors had a fenced-in back yard at that time. Our driveway ran alongside for a dozen feet or so before reaching the garage.

That meant we’d often stop the car there before opening the garage door. By hand. Garage door openers were a new thing for me, later on, and that’s another topic.

Anyway, we’d stop the car.

Then, ky-yi-ing around the back of our neighbor’s house, came Freckles: ears flapping, legs a blur, and barking dire alarms as she curved toward us.

Then, a yard or so from the fence, she’d recognize us. And keep running. Only now she was wagging her tail — and hindquarters — barking cheerful greetings. Which we, of course, acknowledged, and spent a minute or two extended our greetings to this volubly-cheerful neighbor.

For some reason, at first I had pegged Freckles as being a “he”. Dogs, like humans, aren’t all that dimorphic, and I’m drifting off-topic.

But early on my folks and I noticed that Freckles was a “she”. From that point on “Freckles is a girl” became a catchphrase when meeting her.

Neighbors and Attitudes

I’m not sure how we established that we belonged there and were not a threat to her or her territory. Maybe it was a simple matter of not acting like a threat.

Maybe it’s like my oldest daughter said, when we were chatting last Tuesday evening:

“I can see the ears flapping like she’s about to take off. If she was part spaniel, wouldn’t be hard to make friends.”

Then again, maybe my father introduced himself and established our status as friendly neighbors. He was very good at that sort of thing. Odd, in a way, since his temper was as volcanic as mine. But he’s also half-Irish, and that’s yet another topic. Topics:


Ratsniffer's photo: 'An English Springer Spaniel in a Field'. (November 1, 2023)
‘Ratsniffer’s’ photo: “An English Springer Spaniel in a Field”. (2023)

1 Freckles may have been at least part-spaniel:


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About Brian H. Gill

I was born in 1951. I'm a husband, father and grandfather. One of the kids graduated from college in December, 2008, and is helping her husband run businesses and raise my granddaughter; another is a cartoonist and artist; #3 daughter is a writer; my son is developing a digital game with #3 and #1 daughters. I'm also a writer and artist.
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