Summer of Photos from the 1970s: Lulu and I in the Backyard Sunshine

In the 1970s, I had a dog named Lulu who would sit with me in the sunshine, chatting about things. I'd tell her stories, and she'd nod in approval. Sometimes we'd quietly observe the adults, and their strange and mysterious ways. They'd be doing things adults did that we didn't really understand, like using can openers or paying the electric bill, and we'd collaborate on how baffling it all was. 

Here I am in my cowgirl dress, complete with a bandana and a 1970's retro-style Goody brand red plastic bow barrette placed squarely on my head. The morning sun would lay soft on suburban green grass that looked a whole lot like the shag carpet in the house. Lulu and I would sometimes spend time together before I was placed in a car seat and off to church. While coffee hour with humans can be nice after church, a pre-church social hour with your dog is the ideal way to spend the earlier hours of a Sunday morning. 

Lulu's face showed she was already pretty old by the time I was born. She had probably seen the 1960s and the 1970s both, and considering all the social upheaval of the time, that was a lot for a dog to take in. Sometimes we would watch Walter Cronkite deliver part of the nightly news and then we'd wander off to see what toys we had left lying around the backyard earlier in the day. She seemed like a dog who understood everything. She had been around long enough to see the ridiculous vanity of the human situation, and at the same time, all the beauty, love, and humor of it. Being an old soul myself, there was a lot of camaraderie between us. 

In my earliest of days, her soft little ears were always there for me to hold gently in my hands. Her affirming looks showed me she knew I was small and that she needed to watch out for me. Her black coat was ever-huggable in the warm sun; her golden eyes were wise. Here's to every Generation Xer who remembers a dog from their growing up years, may we find them again on the other side. 

I loved her so.  Lulu and I.  

(c) 2024 by Chloe Koffas - All rights reserved