Webster's Dictionary describes a maverick as an unbranded cow or calf. It also may be a dissenter; a nonconformist. I don't think either fits the dog I am about to write about. Besides, I didn't know the meaning of such a word back when the dog known as Maverick came into our lives. It was during the time a western was on television called Maverick. I am pretty sure this is where the dog got its name.
In the country, back in the sixties, it was not uncommon for a stray dog to wander onto someone's property. As children, we were always taking in strays. Once we named the dog, he became ours. No one came looking for the dog.
Every morning, Mother cooked our breakfast. The breakfast was always highlighted by good old country scrambled eggs. We raised our own chickens and so there were plenty of eggs. We gathered eggs every day until we noticed them getting scarce. Had the chickens stopped laying? No, in fact, I myself caught Maverick in the act of eating one. I never told! But soon others in the family caught Maverick eating eggs.
"We can't have this," exclaimed Mother. "Maverick will have to go. Once a dog starts to eat eggs, there is no stopping him."
None of us wanted Maverick to go. We had learned to love him. He played with us. He followed us. He was constantly our companion. We wondered now what was to happen to him. But Mother loved animals as much as us. We were confident she would make the right decision and she did. She talked to a friend in the city who agreed to take the collie dog. She had a fenced yard. She even told Mother he would probably become an inside dog. He would not eat eggs anymore.
We found out later that Maverick did become an inside dog. He even got a changed name. His new name was Precious. Duh! Can you believe that?
Eggs are considered to be good for dogs. Maverick sure did like them. I like my scrambled or fried eggs too. With Maverick's departure, breakfast came back to normal. We had our fresh country eggs every morning.
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