Mayo E. Kellogg

I realize this is a few years late. My dad, Bruce Voldness, and Mayo were great friends for years; back in the 60s, we lived outside Rapid City and either visited or had he and his wife as houseguests at least once a year. He gave my mom, Muggs Voldness, a beautiful Chocolate Lab we named Choco.

Mario insisted on breeding Choco to another of his Labs; my wife and I were given Kelly, the runt, a little male who would turn out to be the best dog we ever had. We had to take him back to his mama (and mine) or he wouldn't have survived.

Joann and I took Kelly on the road with a rock band, and he was a big hit with everybody. Craziest animal you ever saw, not a mean bone in his body. I could tell Kook (his nickname) stories for days, and perhaps I will in the future. Sadly, Joann and I split up, but we still get along; while I was living across from the Reptile Gardens in Rapid, while I was training him to hunt (hand signals, scent tracking, gun etiquette, that sort of thing) so he could be shown, I let him out to pee one morning. After possibly ten minutes, and this was a dog who came right home so faithfully he didn't need supervised for a potty break. Not.

We never saw Kook again. We put up posters, called the radio stations, even reported him stolen. This was in 1978, and I still miss both Mayo and that dog. After my mom died in 81, my dad just dropped out and moved to California. I never got to talk to Mayo again, but I'll always consider him the most gifted dog breeder ever.