The first home that I have any memory of is a small little farmhouse my parents owned in Lakeview, Utah. I am not sure if it is actually my memory or just the memory of my mom telling it but we had chickens (among other animals) and I used a large stick to chase the chickens and evidently I was able to chase them into the chicken coop. About all I can actually remember of this home is that there was a large billboard in the field to the north of us. From my bedroom window I could see this billboard, I thought it was a drive in movie screen and I was always trying to stay awake long enough to see the movie but I never could.

I was 3 years old when we moved from Lakeview to Pleasant Grove where I grew up. I am told that the house was not quite finished when we moved in but my dad finished it up. I was sure happy there we had a back yard that went right into a fruit orchard. Just to the north of the orchard was a field that was as big as all outdoors.

I loved exploring the many wonderful adventures that I could conjure up in my mind. Because our home was in the foothills of Mt. Timpanogos, it was a very short walk or bike ride to the most wondrous mountain trails in the history of my frail existence.

I was able to start attending cub scouts about 2 months before I turned 8 years old. For my 8th birthday my Den Mother, Sister Gourley, gave me a puppy. I named her Skippy she ended up with the name “Slurppy Slippy Sleepy Skippy Dog Wilson”. I always thought and still do think that she was probably the best dog there ever was. For example, the Jakemans (our neighbors to the north) would turn their kids out on the front lawn and call Skip over and tell her to keep an eye on the kids while they went shopping. Skip would lie down in the middle of the yard and pretend to be asleep. When one of the kids got to what Skip thought was the border of the yard she would get up and playfully “drive the kid” back to the middle of the yard. Then she would lay back down and again pretend to be asleep. When the Jakemans arrived home she would just come on back home. Skippy was a true neighborhood dog. There were at least 3 homes, other than ours, that I know of where she had dishes. Skip had a “square” appearance due to her back and sides rubbing the door to her dog house which “combed” her hair into a square.

Sadly Skip did have 2 flaws:

1. She would NOT let the mail man on the property but on the other hand she welcomed the police. Origionally the mailman and skip were good friends She would wait at the corner of the lot for the mailman who would talk to her and give her a treat. Then one day we had a substitute mailman who had a different opinion of dogs. Skip went up to him expecting a treat and to be petted and the substitute kicked her. I saw it happen and Skip was kicked so hard that she literally flew through the air about five feet. From that point on she would not allow the mailman on our property I had to make sure she was chained up in the back yard when it was time for the mail man. Skippy was a smart dog she learned to know when it was time to chain her up and she would lay down on the end of the chain so it looked like she was chained up. On those days the mailman was in trouble!

2. Skippy liked skunks ~ there was an irrigation cannal about a quqrter mile below our house. The cannal was home to more than 1 family of small spotted skunks. Skippy would catch a skunk, bring it home and drop it at my feet wagging her tail expecting me to pet her and call her a good dog while we were both being sprayed.

   The only time I was afraid I was going to lose my dog was on a beautiful sunny day early in the summer. Skippy brought a skunk home dropped the skunk at my feet and the poor skunk was so frightened it scurried up the side of the house and sprayed the swamp cooler just as mom switched it on.

   We camped out on the back lawn for almost the entire summer while dad worked to “de-skunk” the house.

How lucky I was to have parents who both seemed to understand and encourage my curious mind. When I was six my mom allowed me to play with her typewriter.

I became very frustrated and remember trying to type a capital “8” but all I could get was an “upside down raindrop.” My mom wrote a note to the editor of the Deseret News and received a small clip published about the experience in the column known as “Small Talk”. The newspaper clipping just says “raindrop” but in actuality it was an “upside down raindrop”.  On modern keyboards an uppercase 8 gives you an asterisk but back then it was apostrophe which looks exactly like an “doɹpuıɐɹ uʍop ǝpısdn” (especially to a young boy).

Dad and some of his friends built Tote Goats, an early motorized minibike. I used to ride it all over the mountain trails above our home and got to where I knew every nook and cranny of the mountain. One time while Skip was still a pup she followed my dad and I down the trail through the orchards below our house. Skip just about ran the pads off her feet attempting to keep up with us. When we realized she was following us Dad stopped and picked her up. She rode home on the Tote Goat and from that time until the end of her days if that Tote Goat left the yard it left with Skip on the seat. On the few times when she didn’t come when called all we had to do was start up the Tote Goat and she would come running.

We had a Ford Edsel Ranger and when it came time for an engine overhaul Dad did it in the garage. This meant that I had the opportunity to “help” and learn. During this adventure Dad taught me something that has stuck with me. He was talking about his job and his attitude about work. He said as nearly as I can quote:

“A job is what you make of it. For example there is a man I work with who never has a good thing to say about his job or anything else for that matter, well no one likes to be around him because he is so negative. There is another fellow who has the exact same job who has lots of friends and is always pleasant to be around because no one ever hears a negative thing from him. If you work for a man NEVER say anything negative about him or the job.

If you don’t like the job or boss then get another job.”

That has stuck with me and I know that there were jobs I had that I didn’t really enjoy but have a hard time remembering it. I was and continue to be able to find enjoyment in all that I do and I know it is because of the attitude that I learned from my dad. Later in life I told my dad of that conversation and he could not remember it but I am glad that he took the time to talk to his son and teach me such a powerful principle.