I got up and took them down. There was a story in those cups—a story that went back more than a half century.
As I caressed the smooth surfaces, my mind drifted back through the years, back to my boyhood days.
How wonderful the memories were. Piece by piece the story unfolded.
Chapter - II
I SUPPOSE THERE’S A TIME IN PRACTICALLY EVERY YOUNG boy’s life when he’s affected by that wonderful disease of puppy love.
I don’t mean the kind a boy has for the pretty little girl that lives down the road.
I mean the real kind, the kind that has four small feet and a wiggly tail, and sharp little teeth that can gnaw on a boy’s finger;
the kind a boy can romp and play with, even eat and sleep with.
I was ten years old when I first became infected with this terrible disease.
I’m sure no boy in the world had it worse than I did.
It’s not easy for a young boy to want a dog and not be able to have one.
It starts gnawing on his heart, and gets all mixed up in his dreams.
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