Chocolate Milk

My dad, a career Marine, took us-a family of six-to the show. A matinee on base in Iwakunii, Japan was 25 cents! What a treat is was to go to the show, just us kids. Three girls and one boy. We had the time of our lives.

Well, dad, Captain Dad, took us to the movies. It was dark when we arrived home after the show. We exited the car and waited at the door for Dad to unlock the door and let us inside our house. It set on a cul-de-sac. We were friends with everyone on our little island. It felt like an island, anyway.

Well Captain Dad has turned the key and opened the door. A flash zipped through the door before anyone could get inside. The flash ran under the table that the television sat on. It was Chocolate Milk. A stray that all of the kids in our neighborhood had adopted. He was beautiful. White, light brown with some black. We all named him Chocolate Milk because on his muzzle, there was a ring that made it look like he had been drinking a bowl of chocolate milk.

My dad in his booming loud voice told 'that dog' to get out of MY house. Chocolate Milk barked back at him. Then Dad yelled at him some more. Then Chocolate Milk barked some more right back at him. Well this went on back and forth and it kept getting louder and louder.

Suddenly it stopped. My dad looked at Chocolate Milk and smiled. He shook his head and then said, "Any dog that will stand up to me is MY dog!"

Well we were in Heaven, my brother, sisters and I...the next day, we were the envy of the cul-de-sac. He was ours. The entire neighborhood had adopted him and he picked us. He was ours.

My dad loved HIS dog. So much so that when dad got orders to return to the States, he flew HIS dog home in a helicopter. I smile at the thought of Chocolate Milk he was unique.

Years later, we were in our two-story home in Southern California. Inside there was a balcony that over looked the living room. We would watch t.v. and when no one was paying attention to him, Chocolate Milk would go upstairs and stand on the balcony. He would stand and wait. Then a commercial would come on and someone would realize that Chocolate Milk wasn't with us.

We would look up. And, I swear, Chocolate Milk would smile! We would clap our hands and say, "Yea! What a pretty boy! Yea!" He would prance down the stairs! His head and neck arched. He was a HAM. ha ha ha. He would walk into the living room and allow us peasants to pet him and make a fuss over him. How he loved that. How we did. He was a great dog: Chocolate Milk.