Louis Pierre Andre the 13th of Edgewood Lipton was my family dog growing up. Everyone wanted a different name for him so that is what it ended up being. AKA – Louie.

I was visiting my sister last week and she had all these pictures of him from the ’60s. I think the story was that a friend of my sister’s owned a pizza parlor and they had this French poodle that they did not want. Our dog, Freya had just passed away (she got hit by a car), so these people gave Louie to us. Whether any of that is true (except the losing Freya part which I was there for), I do not know. I was maybe 5 or 6 years old.

My Mom had trained him to sit on his haunches and beg. It was a cute move and he enjoyed being the dancing happy center of attention (even though it does not look that way in this picture).

I am the little one in this picture (7 years old) with my stuffed cat. I think my sister will kill me when she sees that I posted this. Of course, she is holding Louie. He lived a long happy life and passed away while I was in college, so he must have been 16+.

I am thankful for such wonderful memories.

Just another DogDaz morning at the zoo ❤