Swimming with Screwey

When I was young my family had a dalmatian named Screwey. The name fit her perfectly. She had two different colored eyes and was super sweet. Being the only girl among lots of stinky boys, I didn't have many playmates. So Screwey was my bestie. She put up with me bathing her and painting her toenails and putting perfume on her and dressing her up. She never complained! But she did always manage to run off and find some dead critter to roll around on to erase my beauty shop job and add her preferred scent...dead, skanky STINK. It's funny, she could roll on rotten critters, swim in algae laden ponds, crawl around in the dirt etc. and she'd always look white. I never could figure that one out.

Our house had a lake in the front yard and I spent many hours swimming in it. So did Screwey. If there were ducks in the lake, she'd paddle around after them until she pooped out. If I went swimming, so did Screwey. I had to be careful because her toenails were pretty long and if she got too close, she'd inadvertently slash me 1/2 to death. But that didn't happen too often.

One summer, I came up with a brilliant idea to extend Screwey's swim time. I decided to lash two empty plastic milk jugs together to form a sort-of sling. I'd put one sling under her front half and another sling under her back half, then all she had to do was paddle her feet a little to maneuver around the lake. She could float for hours with minimal energy expulsion! You might think a dog would be bothered by two ropes holding it up, but Screwey didn't seem to mind a bit. In fact, I think she really liked it.

When it rained, a portion of our road became flooded just a little bit and crawdads would "play" around in it. Screwey knew that flooding meant crawdad fun! She'd curl her lips up so they wouldn't get pinched and she'd put her nose under the water and try to catch those little suckers. Sometimes she was successful and sometimes she wasn't. Every once in a while, she wouldn't get her lips curled back enough and she'd get pinched. You'd know it because she'd start sneezing and shaking her head and act all agitated. I guess I would too if I got pinched in the snout!

She used to get stickers in her feet and she'd use the same lip curling action then pull them out with her teeth. A normal dog would probably spit the thing out but Screwey would eat them. I figure it would be like eating cactus with the thorns...who would want to do that?!? Screwey.

If our family left the farm, upon our arrival back home Screwey would run into the fields surrounding our house, barking furiously as if to say "hey you bad guys, get the heck-fire outta here! My people are home!" She was a great protector. To me, she seemed fearless. A bright white spotty fearless bad guy getter.

Screwey lived a long life and she was well loved by our family. Unfortunately, heart worms got the best of her and I think we all cried over her passing. There hasn't been as good a family dog since her. We've had others but none of them compared to good old Screwey. It's been over 30 years since she's been gone but I miss her to this day. I miss her one blue eye and one brown eye. I miss her silky, spotted ears. I miss her sweet nature and goofy antics. One day, I'll see her again up in heaven where she'll probably be floating in a lake on milk jug floats, or catching crawdads with her lips curled back, or eating stickers just like she used to do. And I'll give her a nice warm bath and put perfume on her and paint her toenails bright red. Let's just hope there aren't dead critters laying around up there, waiting to be rolled over to provide serious stink to her.