Tuesday Voice: Little Bit

A little dog from France

By Ed Rogers

[Originally published on September 17, 2013]

It seems so long ago now, that a little dog came all the way from France to Aberdeen, Mississippi and touched so many lives. It all started in a place called Chateauroux, France, in 1963.
    I was over there with my mother, sister, stepfather, and stepbrother and stepsister. My stepfather was stationed at Chateauroux Air Force Base, and I had a job working with Special Services, taking care of the ball fields and other sporting venues. The pay was not great, but the people I worked for made up for that shortcoming. There were not many jobs for Americans in France.
    The NCO I worked for was Sgt. Duckworth. One day, on the way to the ball park, I saw a poor dog alongside the road. It looked as if it had not eaten in weeks. I don’t know if anyone else would have stopped for that dog, but Sgt. Duckworth did not think twice when I asked him to pull over.
    It took me a good 10 to 15 minutes to get the dog to let me pet it. Once I got her in the truck, Sgt. Duckworth reached over to pet her, and she growled. He pulled back, telling me to be careful, “The dog doesn’t seem very friendly.” How wrong he was!
    That little dog sitting in my lap pushed herself so close to me, it hurt my heart to think that she had been so alone.
    We stopped at a little store on the way to the ball park and got her some food.

Under the announcement stand we had a storeroom. This became the dog’s home for the next month or two. As it was baseball season, I was at the ball park early and stayed late.
    The dog had gone through a change that was hard to believe. I had cleaned her up and taken her to the vet for shots and a check-up. She was now happy and playful.
    She was one of the smartest dogs I have ever known. She made friends with everyone on that base. She knew who her friends were, and they always had a treat in their desk for her.
    In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t mentioned the dog’s name. She hadn’t been named yet. Sgt. Duckworth and I could not come up with a name we were happy with. We would call her one thing for a day or two, then say, “No, that just doesn’t fit.”
    We had a big tournament coming up, so the main field had to be worked over real good. Some Frenchmen were hired to move dirt into the low spots in the field.
    By now the dog had the run of the place. The Frenchmen were throwing a stick and the dog was bringing it back to them. Each time they threw the stick they would shout “un-de-peu” and clap their hands. I asked Sgt. Duckworth what they were saying, but he knew about as much French as I did.
    We had a Frenchman who worked with us and handled the French workmen. He spoke good English, so I asked him what “un-de-peu” meant. He said it meant “a little.” I said “That doesn‘t make any sense, as they’re calling a dog that.” He said, “Oh, used that way it means ‘Little Bit’.”

Things went along just fine until about mid-season. Little Bit had found that she could sit up and beg and the people in the stands would give her parts of their hot dogs. I tried to stop it but if you can picture a little dog that looks like Benji sitting up looking at you with really sad eyes (and she could sit forever), there was no stopping it. Everybody wanted her to sit up for them.
    I had gotten so use to Little Bit being out and about, that I did not think much about her. I knew all I had to do was call her and she would come running.
    We were in the middle of a big game and I had to go to the storeroom to get some new balls for the Ump. I heard people shouting and laughing. I had no idea what was going on, until I looked out onto the field and saw these ball players chasing Little Bit around the field trying to get their ball back. I had to go out on to field and call her to me to get the game started again.
    I was told that Little Bit was no longer welcome to stay at the ball park.

Now, the only reason Little Bit was not staying at home with me was that my mother had said she would not have a dog in her house, but I had little choice now.
    After much talking, my mother agreed to let me put a dog house outside the back door for Little Bit.
    Little Bit was not too happy with being tied up. She had gotten used to the freedom of the ball park, but with her being in a new place, I was afraid she would run off or just go looking around and get lost.
    I got up the next morning, said good-bye to Little Bit, and went to work. I had asked Sgt. Duckworth if he could take Little Bit. Sgt. Duckworth told me he could not have any animals where he lived.
    All the way home I worried about what I was going to do with my poor little dog. I came up to the back door only to find a rope with no dog on the end of it. A picture of her the first time I had seen her came to my mind.
    I run into the house not really knowing what I was going to do. The first thing I did was call out to my mother that the dog was gone. She said, “No, she’s not. She’s right here in my lap.”
    Till the end of her days Little Bit never spent another night outside.

Little Bit and my sister

In 1964, I came back to Aberdeen. Little Bit had become such a part of my family, I believe they would have missed her more than me. So she stayed in France with them.
    By the summer of 1964, France had kicked NATO out of their country and they were closing the air base at Chateauroux. Little Bit had to come to America.
    My Great Aunt Thelma & Uncle Byron owned Wilson Grocery in Aberdeen. My Grandmother Bell Phillips lived and worked there also. Granny was not too happy about me bringing the dog there, but within five minutes she and Little Bit had bonded for life.
    Little Bit became a part of the store and always at Granny’s side. Getting up only to greet someone she knew.
    Byron would go uptown to the bank and he would take Little Bit along with him. Little Bit would go into the bank and get her treat from the bank president. Then she would go from store to store visitng with her friends, who no one knew but her. After awhile she would come back just in time to meet Byron for the trip home.
    Those were happy days for Little Bit. It had been a long journey from that unwanted and lost puppy in France to one of the most loved animals in Aberdeen.

Little Bit felt a great loss at the passing of my grandmother. She took up with Byron after that but some of the joy had gone out of her.
    My aunt and uncle were killed in a car accident on August 19,1969.
Sometime later Little Bit was going uptown with Annie Grace, who worked at the store. A new store had opened next to Wilson Grocery and I guess Little Bit did not realize cars were pulling between the building now. A lady ran over the little dog from France.
    I know there was a great homecoming when she jumped into the arms of my grandmother and my aunt and uncle. She now has that home and family to love her that will never go away.
    I like to think that as my loved ones depart this earth they are met by a loving puppy who leads them to their family.
    One day she will meet me on that Golden Path, and as I found her lost and alone so she will find me and take me home this time.

Copyright © 2014 by Ed Rogers