As kids we had a pet dog. The dog’s name was Butch, and he was a terrier breed, although a little broader in the chest. This suggest there was some other mix in the breed. It kind of fit our family heritage, which included Swiss, German, Prussian, Scotch, Irish, English that we knew of. So, let’s just say he was a dog. He would eat anything. I don’t remember there ever being any purchase of dog food. Other than sitting at the table with us, he ate what we ate.
Dogs need to go outside, and I guess we weren’t into dog walking, and we didn’t have a fenced in back yard. As a matter of fact, I can’t remember us owning a leash or anyone ever taking him out for a walk. In the back yard, there were two clotheslines. They were metal, and I don’t know of what material, probably galvanized or stainless steel. The line right outside the back door had a pulley and fifteen feet of chain with a hook on it. When Butch needed to go out, he was hooked up to this chain which allowed him the freedom to go pretty much the entire back yard.
When anything went down the alley behind our house, Butch would take off barking and going as fast as his legs would carry him. When he hit the end of the travel allowed by the clothesline, his momentum would swing him into the air on the end of the chain. We were astounded that sometimes he would fly as high as the garage roof. This explains why he always had a harness instead of a choker collar. Butch was our family dog for around ten years, and he thrilled us with his daily flights.
