In the early '70's, I had a hairy little Pekinese named Eggroll. That dog and I did everything together, and he loved the woods. The only problem with that type of dog is that they are extremely unafraid of anything, and since their eyes stick out more so than the average dog there was always a danger that the other dog would put their eyes out. It happened to Eggroll, and he lost one eye. But that didn't stop him from always standing up to the biggest dog in the neighborhood even though it was always a fight he could never win. In the fall of 1975, my family and I had moved to a house in Powhatan County, Virginia. A stray collie came from out of nowhere and put his other eye out. My parents said they were going to take him to be put to sleep. I was fourteen years old. I sat in my room crying. I couldn't even go out to say goodbye to him. But a couple of hours later, they returned with Ole Eggroll. They couldn't put him to sleep because of me. The new house we had moved into sat way back in the woods, and the next spring he took off. You would think that a dog, even a blind dog, could smell his own scent back to the house.  But he disappeared and never was seen again.   At the time, I was sick with the flu, so I couldn't go looking for him until I was better - which was way too late. There was a small river, the Appottomax, about a mile behind our house. I have a feeling that there is where he went and drowned. I feel kind of selfish now that I should have let my parents have him put to sleep. It might have been a kinder ending for Eggroll than drowning in the Appottomax River. I saw recently on television that a Pekinese named Malachy won first prize as best in show at the Westminster Dog Show. It brought back many warm memories of my days with Eggroll.