Arlene Park Arnold/ Sambo

Copied from email from Tim Arnold (youngest son)  memory of Mother’s Dog Sambo:
"As I was thinking of mom, many memories came to my mind. One memory that I think of every once in awhile is one that was the only time I had ever seen mom this way. Dad had got mom a little dog, it was the ugliest dog you could ever imagine. It was kind of red with some white on it. It was a male dog, had a little tiny rear end, a great big chest, floppy ears, and weepy eyes. His legs that were about 2 inches long, and bowed out. He was a very unattractive dog and not one that you would think anyone could love. Mom did not think much of the dog at first. It would get in her way in the kitchen, but he wanted to always be with Mom. When mom would lay down, the dog wanted to be with her. She named the dog Sambo, and really fell in love with him. She started to try to teach him tricks. She taught him one trick, or maybe the dog taught himself the trick, because he could get food if he would do it for mom. She used to say, “ Tim, look at Sambo”. She would call the dog over and he would sit in front of her. Mom would then point her finger in the air, and make a noise, and the dog would sit up on his rear just like he was setting on a chair. Sambo would hold that position until Mom would give him some food. She thought that was cutest thing. One day I came home from school, when I was attending Ricks College. I came through the back door and up the steps into the kitchen. Mom was there, and she had been crying. When I asked what was wrong, she couldn't even speak, all she could do was sob, not cry but sob. She kept trying to tell me something, the whole time I'm thinking the worst, I thought possibly that something had happened to Dad, maybe a heart attack or something. Finally, she was able to get out that little Sambo had been run over by Dad earlier in the day while up in the field irrigating. It was a hot day and Sambo had fallen asleep under the pickup in the shade. Dad didn't see him. I had never seen my mother cry like that. She had grown closer to little Sambo than we realized, it took some time for Mom to get over the death of her dog. I remember Dad saying maybe we should get her another dog, but Mom said no that something bad always happens to all the animals we get close to. I do remember that we did get other dogs later. " (end of copy from Tim's email)

Penny's perspective on Tim's memory:
I find this memory so interesting, because it happened after I left home.  My memory of Mother was she absolutely DID NOT allow pets in the house!  This little dog must have really found a place in her heart.  When I was a kid before we moved to the farm, I was always dragging some stray dog or cat home.  She would get so disgusted with me.  I had frequent ring worm due to the unsanitary pets.  She would scold me, while she was doctoring the rings that usually grew on the inside of my forearms.  The comment Tim made about Mother saying "something" bad happens to the animals we get close to" was true.  Grandma Arnold had a horse on their farm I grew up with.  Dad put me on Patsy with him, when I was about two or three.  I rode her by myself at about 4 yrs, if I could con someone to bridle and saddle her.  Finally, I got tired of that by the time I was about five, so I learned to coax her to the pole fence, where I would somehow get a bridle on her, and ride bare back.  Mother always worried about me being so young and riding, but she never stopped me.  Patsy and I were inseparable.  One day when I was about 13, I came home from school and Mom said she had some very bad news.  She told me Patsy had wandered out of the barn yard, been hit by a truck, and killed on the Lyman highway.  I was devastated, and cried most of the night, never coming out of my room until morning.   She left me alone treating me very kindly, even though I was angry for a few days.