More on Annie, our foul-tempered, farting, fat, Dalmatian who only liked the neighbor kid across the street.
One of Annie’s loveliest traits was that it was impossible to keep her off the furniture. When we told the kids to go to bed, she was the first to hit the bed. Anyone careless enough to leave a bedroom door open could count on a bed partner as soon as they drifted off. A couple of houseguests were awakened by the crushing weight of a heavy, nasty, growling surprise when they didn’t shut their door securely. No featherweight, she’d heft herself on atop an unfortunate sleeper with no concern whatsoever for whomever might be occupying that bed. It was common to hear one of us yell out “Get out, Annie!” followed by a nasty tempered, low growl, then the padding of feet down the hall.
From another room, a from a muffled voice would let out a big “Oof! Annie! Get over!” There’d be some shuffling from that bed till she crowded that victim enough to get moved along.
Annie had no intention of going outdoors when we left. When she heard us making preparations to leave, she’d sneak stealthily back to the kid’s room. We turned to tables on her own day, announcing we were on our way out, making a great show of leaving, then awaiting her by the door. As soon as the door shut, she came prancing in the living room, prepared to jump on the sofa. She was mortified when she spotted us, dropped her head, and walked to the front door to be put out. It was good to get the best of her for once.
We have a nice little wet-weather creek that runs along our property line, cutting through the middle of the wooded lot next door. My kids played in the creek and in the woods all the time. They were a few years older than Greg, our neighbor’s boy, so by the time he played there, he had Annie, our Dalmatian and other kids from the neighborhood with him. Sometimes, I think Greg was the only person Annie really liked. 
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