About seven or eight years ago, I brought home a beautiful female puppy. We named her Clemintine Churchill Bradford. (FYI: I have a secret crush on Winston Churchill.) Clementine came from a long line of champion English Springer Spaniels.
About seven or eight years ago, I brought home a beautiful female puppy. We named her Clemintine Churchill Bradford. (FYI: I have a secret crush on Winston Churchill.) Clementine came from a long line of champion English Springer Spaniels.
She was smart, cuddly and feisty. Springers, like most breeds, totally love their family with both heart and soul. They have soft, beautiful fur with a gorgeous feathering on their chests and legs. She was cute as a button and 40 + pounds of pure love.
There came a time one evening when she and I were sitting on the couch together and a train went by blowing its lonesome whistle.
Trains come through every single day at Baron. However, this time, out of the blue (I have no clue why I did this) I looked at Clementine and I started to howl. To my delight, she joined in. So we both howled at the train. It was so cute.
When the next train came through and the whistle started blowing... Once again Clementine and I howled. I mean, I had to show Steve how cool it was, right?
By the third time she and I howled at the train, it had caught on. Clementine then turned around and taught our male dog ‘Winston Churchill’ (our other English Springer Spaniel) to also howl at the train.
Fast forward to 2022. Steve has passed. Clementine has passed. Winston is still with me. I also have Winston and Clementine’s daughter Hannah Anna and my huge bundle of fur, my fierce guardian ‘Might Quinn’ the Great Pyrenees. Every single time a Kansas City Southern rolls through Baron, all my faithful canines stop what they are doing, gather together and howl in perfect chorus as the train passes through our small community.
At times, it reminds me of that day so long ago when Clemintine and I howled together. Who would have thought that play-howling with my dog for fun, having a good laugh … could have ended in a daily canine chorus in perfect sync with the train?
Regrets? None. I adore it. I count on it. It’s reassuringly familiar... like the comfort of a pair of fuzzy worn house shoes. All winter I sleep with my window wide open, I smile when the train comes through and the dogs start howling. It’s heaven. We are a house of oddballs and I’m the biggest one. Bless those fur babies.
