My Old Scar

I have a scar on my forehead.

It's been there since I lived in My Old House.

It was about 1977. My mom and sister were out for the evening, so one of my sister's friends (Mary Ann) came over to baby-sit me. Being the type of boy who was very cooperative with baby-sitters, I decided to keep busy. . . by riding on my German shepherd's back! Mack didn't think this was as good of idea as I did. And he let me know it. . . by taking a bite out of my forehead.

When my mom got home, she took me to Aunt Janet's (who is a nurse.) Janet thought I needed stitches rather than just a "butterfly." I was hoping for the butterfly, but my mom took me to Dr. Graber's office late that night and he stitched me up.

I guess that scar is something I will always have from My Old House, not to mention the lesson I learned that day, do not try to take a horsey-back ride on a German shephard.

Mack was a good dog. He just didn't like kids
riding on his back. Can't say that I blame him.