In our third year of marriage, my wife, Soula, and I “inherited” a beautiful, mid-size, Black Labrador from my youngest brother, Tom.
The dog had been trained at the Army Presidio in San Francisco. He was very smart, alert, and could do most of the tricks many dogs can do, but this Labrador had also been trained to perform other “military tasks” while “on duty” with the soldiers.
One of the most unique stunts this dog could do, was to jump upwards a few feet while standing on all four paws. He could jump up and down
four or five times, like a yoyo on a string, consequently the dog was named “Yoyo.”
When Tom was reassigned to an Army Post in Germany, he brought Yoyo to us for safekeeping.
At that time, we lived in a three-bedroom house in Lakewood. The front lawn sloped slightly downward from the house to the sidewalk.
When our son Tim was about 2 years old and had learned to walk a bit, he loved to play with Yoyo on the front lawn.
Tim and I often sat on the bottom step of our porch. Yoyo would always lie on the grass watching us. Many times, Tim would get up and walk on the lawn.
Each time that Tim waddled too close to the sidewalk, Yoyo would place himself between Tim and the sidewalk and perform his “duty” as a child-protector.
Yoyo, with his body, would nudge Tim so Tim would be forced to walk back toward the house.
YoYo lived with us for over seven years until one day a friend of ours, Perry, asked, “Can my friend and I take Yoyo on a duck-hunting trip over the weekend?”
Black Labradors are known to be good hunting dogs, so we agreed. We thought it would be a good experience for Yoyo.
Four days later, Perry came to inform us that “Yoyo is lost.”
Highly-concerned, we asked many questions.The best answer Perry ever gave us, “I woke up in the morning and Yoyo was nowhere around.”
For the next several years, we hoped and believed Yoyo would suddenly return to our home. This never happened. He was greatly missed.
