If you ever go to northern Maine you should look for a place Castle Hill. My mothers side of the family has always lived there. I can not say Castle Hill is a town because it is not. I don't even know why they named the place Castle Hill but, common sense tells me there was a castle there at one time.

Most of the houses are very old and run down. We always called my grandparents house a tarpaper shack. It made no difference to us though what my grandparents home looked like as it was always fun to be there.

My grandparents had an assortment of animals. One was a Boston Terrier dog. I don't know why but everyone swore it was a Bulldog. Even I thought it was a bulldog but then again I was only four so I just went along with the adults because as all kids know adults know everything.

To me this little dog was about the cutest dog I had ever seen. My eyes followed that dogs every move. I wanted to be that dog, he seemed to have so much fun and was full of energy and never got scolded if he did something wrong. Oh how I wanted to be that little spoiled dog.

I would laugh and laugh at that little dog when he chased cars. He looked so cute with his little legs going as fast as they could. He would be yapping the whole time. He could sure run fast for a little thing. He'd kick up dust as he ran beside the cars.That was more than I could stand to watch. I was itching to be that little bulldog.

One day while at my grandparents house I watched the little bulldog chasing cars again.I couldn't stand it anymore. I had made up my mind, the next time the dog chased a car I was going to find out why he liked it so much and why it seemed to make him so happy. When I heard the next car coming down the road I watched the little bulldog. I could always tell by his body language when the time was right. Sure enough just as the car reached the neighbors house the dog was off and so was I.

The little bulldog was much faster than I was but he did have more practice at chasing cars than I did. The dog was barking and I was barking right along with him. Actually we were both on the yappy side so I guess most would say we were yapping. I thought I was getting the hang of chasing cars with my very first car. I caught up to the car and was right at the back door just like the little bulldog. I could her my mother and grandmother yelling for me to get back into the yard just like I had heard them yell to the dog so many times but like the dog I wasn't going to come back until I finished my job.

I can still remember the look on the mans face as he slowed the car down. I was really yapping now. I was going for the back tire just like the little dog. I kept barking just like I had learned from the dog.I could tell by the tone in my mothers and grandmothers voice that they were on there way out to get me and the dog. I kept running after the car and barking. My bark became more like a growl as the car stopped. I was at the drivers door. I looked up into the windows, I could see everyone and they were looking at me in shock as I went right up to the drivers window and barked and clawed at the door. My mother grabbed me up in her arms but I kept yapping. My mother apologized and still I fought to be free so that I couldchase after the car as it drove away. My grandmother had the little dog in her arms fighting to be free also.

I had finally done it. I had found out why the little dog loved chasing cars so much. It was so much fun to see the looks on the faces of the people in the car.

All the way back to the house me and the little dog fought to get down. We were both yapping and struggling to be free when the next car came down the road but my grandmother looked at the dog and said'"NO!" and then she looked at me and said" Grammie's Little Bulldog can not chase cars you bad little dog." So from that day forward My mothers family has called me, "Grammie's Little Bulldog."

-- george (rcoopwalpole@aol.com), January 17, 2002

Answers

what do they call you now?

-- Stan (sopal@net-port.com), January 17, 2002.

stan, your so funny.i cant stop laughing. thanks shirley

-- shirley kelsoe (farout96@aol.com), January 17, 2002.

Stan, even though I am 41 they still call me "Grammie's Little Bulldog" :-)

-- george (rcoopwalpole@aol.com), January 17, 2002.

Thanks, George. The only problem is, last night I read you story right before bed, and tonight it's only 4:30....now I have to go without my bedtime story! Cara

-- Cara Dailey (daileyd@agalis.net), January 17, 2002.

You and your Grammie should 've had more sense. ARe you smarter now? Dogs that chase cars get killed. So do kids who do dumb things like that. You and that cute little Boston Terrier were both lucky. However, it was a cute story. LQ

-- Little Quacker (carouselxing@juno.com), January 19, 2002.

Hi Little Quacker. At four years old I had no sence at all.As for being smarter now that would depend on who you talk to and I can tell you the answer runs about 50/50. I can't tell you how many things I look back on and ask myself, " What in the world were you thinking?" :-) George

-- george nh (rcoopwalpole@aol.com), January 19, 2002.

I hear you George! LOL Guess I could say the same. Thanks for the cute story. Dogs are great! LQ

-- Little Quacker (carouselxing@juno.com), January 19, 2002.

George, do you know how hard it is to finish your story while laughing so hard, and trying to wipe tears from your eyes, and the screen is blurry?!? Oh, what a riot. Sign me up for your book too. I can't wait!

-- Michael W. Smith in North-West Pennsylvania (kirklbb@penn.com), January 20, 2002.