I was 5 years old when She came into my life. That was a long time ago. January, 1932 to be exact. We were in the middle of the depression and there was no time for anything but work.

My Dad worked at several jobs just to keep us in clothing and to feed us. I grew up in a small town just outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where the winters were harsh. Things did seem simpler then though.

I can still remember getting excited every Saturday afternoon when my Dad would come home from the steel mill. On this particular Saturday I heard his rickety old pickup truck pull into the driveway.

As my Dad got out of the truck he had a big smile on his face.

"Sara, I got something for you", he said.

As I approached the truck he opened the passenger door. There on the seat was a little puppy all curled up in my Dad's jacket.

"I found her at the steel yard", he told me.

She looked skinny and frail as my Dad carried her into the house. We certainly didn't have any dog food in the house so my mom cooked up some outmeal. The little dog lapped it all up and looked at us like she wanted more. I asked my Mom to give her my breakfast oatmeal for the next day. We fed the little puppy until she was content.

As my Dad tuned in the radio for our nightly family time, our new family member snuggled with me on the floor.

"We need a name for her", my Dad said.

I didn't know it at the time, but our new puppy was a Border Collie. I had no idea what breed she was and I didn't care. But we were listening to "Little Orfan Annie" on the radio and my Dad suggessted that we name her Annie.

I can still remember her eyes that night. Annie looked at me as if to say "Thank You".

As the years past, Annie and I became best friends. She slept with me in my bed every single night.

On Christmas, Annie would open all my gifts for me. Including the one I always had for her. We didn't have much back then, but we had our family and Annie was just as much family as any of the rest of us.

I can still see Her greeting me each day when I came home from school. Annie would run down the side walk and jump all over me.

As the years past and Annie got older we all noticed a limp. Just old age we all thought. Annie was with us for 12 years. March 18, 1944, I woke up and Annie was in bed with me. I was 17 years old. Her eyes were closed and she looked very peaceful. I knew the instant I looked at her that she was gone. My Annie was gone.

We buried her behind the big shed. My Dad took a large rock and painted "Annie" on it for her head stone.

The years have gone by and there is seldom a day that I don't think about her. My Dad is in Heaven with Annie now too. My husband and I recently visited my Mom and I went out to Annie's grave. The rock is still there. I stood there with tears streamingdown my face thinking about the wonerfull childhood I had and the best friend a little girl could have had. I really miss Annie but I know someday I will join her and my Dad.

We will have a great reunion and maybe share some outmeal.

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