FROM THE ASSOCIATE EDITOR By Robb Murray OCTOBER 2021 • VOLUME 16, ISSUE 10 PUBLISHER Steve Jameson EDITOR Joe Spear ASSOCIATE Robb Murray EDITOR COPY EDITOR Kathy Vos CONTRIBUTORS Bert Mattson Dan Greenwood Jean Lundquist Kat Baumann Leticia Gonzalez Ann Rosenquist Fee Pete Steiner Nell Musolf PHOTOGRAPHER Pat Christman PAGE DESIGNER Christina Sankey ADVERTISING Danny Creel SALES Jordan Greer-Friesz Josh Zimmerman Theresa Haefner Tim Keech ADVERTISING Barb Wass ASSISTANT ADVERTISING Christina Sankey DESIGNER CIRCULATION Justin Niles DIRECTOR
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6 • OCTOBER 2021 • MANKATO MAGAZINE
For the love of pets
I
honestly can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t have a dog. In my earliest memories of life on the east side of St. Paul, there’s a little black fluffy dog named Jingles scampering around. I don’t know whatever happened to Jingles, and I guess I never thought to ask. I was a toddler. But I remember him. Then there was Peanuts, also a little black dog. He used to run around the living room and I’d chase him. Invariably he’d run behind the couch, tucking himself safely away as I reached my little arms in vain to grab for him. One of my favorite family photos of all time is of my father sitting in his favorite La-Z-Boy with that pup sitting between his legs. Peanuts’ head is slightly cocked, looking at the camera. They told me he ran away. I don’t remember being sad about it, but I do remember my sister Kelley working quickly to acquire a new family pet. A family a few blocks away had a dog with a fresh litter of pups. Kelley knew the family and worked out a deal for us to get first crack. She had her eye on Coco, a beautiful brown mutt. But on the day she went to pick her up, Coco was being antisocial and wanted nothing to do with her. So she brought home Sadie the mutt instead. Sadie was the GOAT. Perfect temperament. Loved everyone. Loyal to my dad, but happy to play with anyone and everyone. She loved to roam. In fact, Sadie would regularly make the rounds of the neighborhood. I’d be out playing with my friends a few blocks away and it wouldn’t be uncommon to see Sadie walk by, just doing her thing. This was back in the day when a friendly dog could roam, and you didn’t have to worry about persnickety neighbors calling animal control. It was a different
time. Next came Brandi, a cocker spaniel who loved to fetch balls and chew shoes. When my dad eventually had to put her down, I don’t think I’d ever seen him sadder. He wasn’t really a crier, but he cried that day. And so did I. I was petless for several years until Boo Radley came along. Boo’s issues with thunder were too much for us to handle, though, so we rehomed him to a family that could take care of him better. It was hard, but it was what was best for Boo. Then there is Henry. Henry T. Beagle, to be precise. (What does the T stand for? “The.”) He’s still with us, but it looks like Henry’s time may be winding down. He’s my best friend. I’ll be a mess for a while when he goes. Of course, we can’t forget Mongo, the latest addition, who is a scrappy and spry 15-year-old Chihuahua-pug mix who acts like he’s a puppy. We’ve got him in charge of security. Takes his job very seriously. And, of course, I must mention two others: Sister, the dog whose misbehaving exploits were welldocumented in The Free Press; and Edna, whose death left me sobbing at the vet and unable to really talk about even to this day … I’m actually having a hard time finishing this sentence. For the people who have them, pets become an indelible part of our emotional well-being. For every Henry T. Beagle or Sadie, someone else out there has stories of best friends and GOATs that lit up their world the way my pets have lit up mine. And that’s why we do the pet issue. Enjoy all these wonderful companions! Robb Murray is associte editor of Mankato Magazine. Contact him at 344-6386 or rmurray@mankatofreepress.com.