My First Memory

 Originally published Dec, 2012

The 6:00 whistle blew – which meant that I had to leave Suzie Anderson’s house and walk the three blocks back to my home.  In my little town of Forest Lake – many, many years ago when I was five – we didn’t have paved streets.  Heck, we didn’t even have street names!  I remember that my address was Box 662.

Anyway, I remember it was a beautiful sunny day and I was whistling and singing to myself as I skipped on home.  As I turned the corner to get to our long driveway, I noticed the big black Labrador dog in the front yard of our neighbor’s basement house.  He was tied to a long rope and was chewing on a large bone.  And….. I said, “Hi, doggy.”

The next thing I knew, the dog got up and leaped towards me – knocking me to the ground.  And, he started to bite my face.  I remember screaming.  The dog’s owner came out of his house and got the dog off of me and carried me to my house. 

The next thing I remember – is lying on a white table in Dr. Ruggles’ office and he was leaning over me trying to stitch up my face.  He gave me 17 stitches in my cheek, four in my eyelid and two more on the side of my face.

I still remember crying and screaming because (I found out later), Dr. Ruggles didn’t give me any Novocain because the bites were too close to my eye and, in those days, he didn’t want to risk freezing up my eye, I guess.

I also remember calling for my Uncle Lee (my dad’s brother).  Of course my mom, dad and older brother were already with me – but for some odd reason, I really really wanted my Uncle Lee.  He lived in St. Paul Park, which is about 30 miles away, but – back in those days – the only highway between Forest Lake and St. Paul Park was Highway 61 – one lane going each way.  My wonderful Uncle Lee, did come all that way to see me.  I still remember his smiling facing looking down at me.  He even brought me a present (a doll).

Two side notes to this memory:

Number one - My dad was told by the dog’s owner that I was the third person his dog had attacked.  My dad then told him that if he didn’t have the dog put to sleep, he would simply get his shotgun and do the job for him.  As far as I know, dad didn’t have to find his gun.  The neighbor and his dog were gone within a couple of days.  

And the last note – while trying to get me to stop crying, Dr. Ruggles told me that the scars on my face would go away by the time I turned seven years’ old.  As you can imagine – on my seventh birthday, I hopped out of bed and ran to the mirror.  And, of course, the scars were still there.  How dare Dr. Ruggles lie to me!  I refused to go to him again and my parents ended up transferring me to the brand new doctor in town…. who was very handsome and made house calls, by the way.

I wish my very first memory could have been a more positive one – like my second memory – that of meeting my very best friend, Phyllis Amundson, on the path between our two homes.  You see, Phyllis and her family moved into that basement home soon after the dog and his owner left and we were neighbors for the next 15 years.  I have plenty of fond memories of those years which I will probably write about in the months to come.