Forty years ago, the City Park in Lander, WY where I grew up, was the place where most town kids hung out in the summer. Unfortunately, some grownups would take unwanted weaned pups and dump them off at the park, thinking that kids would take them home and beg mom and dad to keep them. My older brother (by 18 months) picked up this black mutt of a puppy one day, took it home, and begged Mom and Dad to keep it. Well, of course we kept it. To name it, we all wrote names on pieces of paper, put them in a hat, and Dad picked one. The chosen name was my mother's entry: Gomer, after Gomer Pyle on the TV show popular at that time. That dog was a true blue friend to our family throughout the remainder of my childhood. He went with us kids everywhere. Those were the days when a few boys could leave home in the morning with a little lunch, tell our mothers where we were going, explore the country just outside of town, and be back by suppertime. And nobody worried about us. Sadly, those days seem to be lost forever.
