Frank

I had a KC named Frank oh he was the dearest thing to me even though we had horses, cows, sheep, pigs, etc and I cared about a duck, laughed my dad. But I cared about that Frank so much. He was darling. I made a hammock just for me and him one time and after school and chores I would rush to him, open his door and fly to the hammock and he also flew and then jumped onto the hammock and we just laid there. He was so sweet. But my dad, of course, didn’t have the responsibility to do all the chores while we went down to New York and he left them outside during the night and my dear frank and his jumbo Pekin girl, banjo, and their baby that we hatched, which was a KC x JP, Olive, all died during the night from something so evil to do that. But I can’t blame my dad like that— but he was so sorry for me I was depressed for 2 years, staying in my room only eating lunch. And the worst thing is my dad wouldn’t let me have more ducks. But I think once a month I would go down to his grave I made for him by a stream and lay there for the rest of the day.

I wish I’d gotten a photo, but I couldn’t have a phone when I was a kid.