That was the name of our first dog. She was a beagle that our Uncle Wallace gave to us. We called her Cleo for short. She received the full name because she used to ride in the boat behind our car to Summersville Lake every weekend when we went camping. We loved to look back at her and watch her ears blow in the wind.
Cleo used to pull her doghouse around the neighborhood behind us as we ran and played. Quite frankly she used to do this if she just wanted to go somewhere. She did not let a little thing like a doghouse deter her! Unfortunately this wander lust was her downfall. My mom called my uncle and asked him to take her back. She thought she would be happier hunting rabbits and that is probably so.
Until about a month ago I had thought she died on the road like most of our dogs did. My mom was laughing about Cleo pulling that doghouse around after us and I mentioned that it was a shame she was killed. That's when she told me what really happened to Cleo...about 45 years later.
Now before ya'll start hollering about dogs in boats and getting killed on the road, please remember this was in WV in the 70's. Things were different back then. I am not really for Romney for President but this thing about him letting his dog ride in a carrier on top his car is way out of proportion. Lots of people did that 25 years ago. The dog was lucky in had a carrier and wasn't in the trunk or something.
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