COLUMN: For all the dogs I have loved in my life

Aug. 26 is National Dog Day.

Woof. Woof. How ‘Bout Them Dogs?

No need to get your pup a Hallmark card on Tuesday. Just give her an extra dog biscuit. Or scratch him behind the ear. 

Better yet, let her stick her head out the window riding down Vineville Avenue. Let him chase every squirrel in the yard, then come inside and drink out of the toilet. 

If you’re a cat person, you must wait your turn. National Cat Day isn’t until October 29. So you might as well reach across the aisle and show some bi-partisanship to lap dogs, bird dogs, guide dogs, rescue dogs, mutts and mascots. 

Our dogs are like our children. We brag that they are the cutest and the brightest. We bring out pictures from our pocketbooks and cell phones. 

We dress them in socks and sweaters, and put bows on their heads. They have their own parks. They practically have their own aisle at Kroger. 

Dogs have a deep bench with Lassie, Snoopy, Toto, Old Yeller, Spot, Pluto, Benji, Rin Tin Tin, Bingo, Clifford, Beethoven and Scooby Doo.

And, lest we forget, Dog is God spelled backward. 

I have rubbed paws with a few celebrity dogs. I have gotten to hang out with a couple of generations of Ugas, the beloved University of Georgia mascot. (Swann Seiler, whose family has provided the bulldog mascots since 1956, is a longtime friend from college.)

Likewise, Paul and Alice Williams are dear peeps from Macon. They are the owners of a line of pink poodles — Casper, Lacie, Blossom and now Cherry — for the Cherry Blossom Festival. 

I had the opportunity to appear at some events with AC Pup, who was 4 weeks old when he was found abandoned in freezing weather. He went on to become the name and face of animal rescue efforts in Middle Georgia for the next 13 years.

I never met Lt. Bobby, but he is perhaps Macon’s most famous fur baby.  He died on January 29, 1936, and is buried in Macon’s historic Rose Hill Cemetery. He was the first dog to receive a commission in the Army, signed by President Calvin Coolidge.

And, of course, there was “Sam the Beggar Dog,’’ a saucy Spitz who became a local icon when he appeared in a painting by former Macon fire chief B.H. Brown. Sam is pictured at the feet of a boy, who is holding a newspaper and a hot dog. It became the logo for Nu-Way, the second-oldest hot dog restaurant in the country, and is featured on everything from bags to cups, hats and T-shirts.

My wife and I have not owned a dog for several years. But that comes after a lifetime of our dogs owning us.

We have six “granddogs” now, ranging from a couple of rescued  puppies found abandoned in Stinsonville to a mini golden doodle, who appeared on stage as Sandy in the musical “Annie” at Macon Little Theatre.

My first dog was named Elvira. She was a boxer. She loved to chase cars. I’m afraid she might have chased one car too many. My parents never explained why she disappeared one day.

We later had a toy poodle we called Tillie Bean. My mother named her after a character in a book she was reading. Tillie Bean died in the back seat of our station wagon when we were moving from Portsmouth, Virginia, to Jacksonville, Florida. My father was still in Vietnam. It was traumatic. My mother and her five kids were all in tears. Mama pulled over at a veterinarian’s office in Charlotte and made arrangements for them to bury Tillie.

Tillie begat Luci Baines. She was named after President Lyndon Johnson’s youngest daughter, who gave birth to her first child the same day Tillie Bean had her puppies. 

Later on down the bloodline, our dog, Honey, had a litter of puppies. My sisters took them around the neighborhood, trying to give them away. They found homes for all but one. He was brown and black and looked like a shriveled-up raisin. That’s what they named him. My dad and Raisin became best buddies. 

After college, I had a dog named Herschel. In the early 1980s, I think every Georgia fan named their dog Herschel. When I married, my wife had a chow named Punkin. We kept one of her puppies and named her “Glory,” from a Kenny Rogers song.

Later, we owned a couple of basset hounds we named Emmy and Sevier. Emmy was the namesake of Emmylou Harris, one of our favorite country singers. Sevier was named for John Sevier, the first governor of Tennessee, who was my wife’s great great great great great great grandfather. (Sevierville is the home of Dolly Parton.)

The basset hounds were loveable, large and clumsy.  A neighbor at the top of the hill once told me, “I saw your dogs walking your boys this morning.’’

Scout was a beagle. Her real name was Jean Louise “Scout” Finch from “To Kill a Mockingbird.”  We spoiled her with too much table food. She would sit by the supper table waiting for a crumb to fall.  She grew as wide as she was long. When Scout got old, we went through the unshakeable grief of having to put her to sleep.

Jerry was the first stray we brought home. He wandered onto the playground at Sonny Carter Elementary School without a collar. 

His fur was as black as chimney soot. The boys named him Jerry, after Jerry Garcia and Jerry Seinfeld. He was an Australian blue heeler cattle dog, smothered with Heinz 57.

But he was mostly a wonder dog. His photo ended up on the cover of one of my books, “Smack Dab in Dog Crossing.” When our son, Jake, was in the fifth grade, he did a school project on “A Day in the Life of Jerry.’’ The documentary somehow won first place in the Bibb County Schools technology fair.

One day, my wife went to the vet’s office to pick up some medicine and came home with Harper, who had been dumped there. She was named for author Harper Lee.

Harper was a psycho dog. She would have snapped at Mother Teresa had she knocked on our door. She spent her days running into things at full speed. She chewed everything from leather chairs to TV remotes.

Zuzu was named after the young daughter in “It’s a Wonderful Life.’’ She is still with us, although she now lives with Jake and his two other dogs, Ranger and Tonka.

Our dogs are buried in the back yards of the four houses we have lived in, so our hearts are there, too.

We miss them, but at least we know they left this world knowing they were loved.

Ed Grisamore’s favorite movies about dogs are “My Dog Skip,’’ “Old Yeller,’’ “Where the Red Fern Grows” and “101 Dalmations.” His favorite books about dogs are “The Speckled Beauty: A Dog and His People” by Rick Bragg, “The Dog Buried Over the Bridge” by Rheta Grimsley Johnson, “Travels With Charley” by John Steinbeck and “Marley & Me” by John Grogan.