Time for a good dog story. This one’s about Inky.

If I had to guess, I’d place this photo in about 1936, in Raymondville, Texas County, Missouri, on the northern edge of the Ozark Plateau.

That’s my Aunt Bill, my Dad, and the appropriately-named Inky the Dog.

Aunt Bill’s real name was “Mildred,” which I think she detested.

The name persisted in our family because a collateral ancestor married Mildred Washington, the great man’s aunt. They sold Mt. Vernon to GW’s father.

That’s not the story. The story’s about Inky.

Aunt Bill and Dad had to give Inky up for allegedly “bothering sheep,” which, given my experience with my big brother’s 4H lamb, is a stretch,. She was imperturbable.

But maybe Ozark Plateau sheep are more sensitive.

Inky would’ve meant a to Aunt Bill and my Dad, Their Dad–my Grandfather John–had just died in a Springfield hospital after a long struggle to overcome the injuries, including two broken legs, inflicted by a Texan driving a Ford roadster at high speed as Grandfather John crossed the road to visit his neighboring farmer and friend, Mr. Dixon.

That’s not the story. The story’s about Inky.

The Gregorys, being neighborly, found a home for Inky with a nice family in Rolla, famed for Fort Leonard Wood and for what was then called the Missouri School of Mines.

This photo was taken after all that. Inky ran away from his new home in Rolla and came back to Aunt Bill and Dad in Raymondville.

Raymondville is forty miles south of Rolla.

This is why we love dogs.

Good boy, Inky.