Me and Lowell along with the rest of the island kids were accepted as a normal fixture in Avalon. We were treated very good by the other residents and merchants. The police chief knew us all by name. The police and fire department as well as the island company garage were all housed in the same building. The kids were encouraged to stop by and be seen so the chief would know who was where in case something happened. It worked out great because we had a place to get a drink or use the restroom.

The chief had a female "Yellow Lab" dog named Goldie. She was his constant companion. Dogs were pretty rare on the island. Matter of fact Goldie was the only one I ever saw. Goldie got with pups so I know there had to be at least one male out there somewhere. Well she had four fine little puppies. Three girls and one boy. She had them at the station so Lowell and I always stopped to check on her and her pups when we were in town. The chief offered to give us our pick of the pups if our parents said it was okay. He reasoned that because we'd had dogs before(in Alabama)and the fact that we lived out of town made us likely to take care of a pup. He would also furnish all the shots and necessary paperwork to allow us to have the dog. The island had strict rules about dog ownership. No unregistered animals were allowed. 

I took some convincing but my folks finally said yes to the dog question. We had in fact left two dogs behind when we moved west, Snooks and her puppy Major. My uncle Jim had taken them and promised to find someone that would adopt them both.

Snooks has quite a story that can be told about her. Its a good but fairly long tale. I will in time tell you about her.

The chief made us wait eight weeks before we could take the puppy home. He told us to come up with a name so he could put it on the paper work. Lowell and I settled on the name Dobie.

It was a long wait but it finally was time to bring Dobie home.  He was a fine pup. He did his share of puppy messing in the floor but what heck he was just a baby. My dad set him up in a little wooden box turned dog house. Dobie was the only dog at Peebly beach so he kinda became the neighborhood mascot. He visited everyone. He was a hustler in his own right. He had weakness for shoes. never chewed them up, just drug them home and left them outside his house. Neighbors that came up short a shoe would know where to look.  

During the wait for Dobie, brother and I only went into town once or twice a week. Useally just to the post office. There was no mail delivery on Catalina so the post office was sort of a meeting place for the residents. If you wanted your mail you had to show up now and then. 

During our rambling, Lowell and I had got to know the cook at a local eatery. I can't recall the name of the place. I remember it set across the street from the police station near the Safeway store. The cooks name was Phil. He took his lunch at 11:30am. If Lowell and I was there Phil would give us lunch also. In the alley behind restaurant I had noticed an old bicycle leaning against the building. It was a rough looking old two wheeler. I had been wanting bike. I'd never owned one. I learned to ride using Fred Hunters old J.C. Higgins back in Alabama. A Schwinn or Roll Fast would have been nice but at twenty five dollars it wasn't gonna happen. I asked if that old bike was for sale. Phil told me it just might be. I admitted I only had one dollar but I'd come up with rest. He said fine. I asked how much more? He grinned and told me just the dollar, no more. Great, I whipped out the dollar and placed it in his hand. Me and little brother commenced to drag the old "beater" out from amongest the garbage cans and assorted other junk. 

It was one really ugly old bicycle and was already thinking I shoulda kept my money. It had a big backwheel and a little front wheel complete with flat tire. It was a "puke" orange color with a big "goofy" looking oversized front basket. Oh well! Phil said "hey wait a minute". I thinks, Oh boy he's changed his mind. Nope, I couldn't get that luckey. Instead he says, it's gonna need some work before you ride it. You boys push the thing across the street to the bike rental place and tell the man to fix it. Tell him Phil sent you.

Avalon kept motorized transportation down to a minimum. Everyone walked or rode a rented bike. This made sense because of all the tourist coming and going to the beach or just walking and looking through all the little stores and shops. The bike rental was between the Safeway and the police garage. I think the Catalina Island Company owner the bike business. At any rate the man at the bike shop fixed the front tire and gave the old wreck a going over. A little oil, a little adjustment, a big red reflector on the rear fender and even two new pedals. Lastly he attached a little metal ID tag so that everything was legal and pronouced her ready to go.   

Lowell and me now had wheels. "Hot Dog" we was ready now. Us and this ugly old bike would become known all over Avalon and the surrounding areas. Two little island kids a yeller dog and one ugly old bicycle. We might "pop up" anywhere. People just grinned, waved and shook their heads. I guess we must have been quite a strange sight to see.