In the early 70s when I came back home from my tour in Sunny Southeast Asia I was racing flat track motorsicles to try and keep myself under control.
One of my friends in my hometown let me have a bay in his service station to keep my bikes and junk in and rebuild there when not on the road racing.
One day while I was in the back building a bike, someone left a small female dog in the restroom after they were done and we didn't find her until she was scratching on the door wanting to go outside. She was in heat but I loaded her in my van and took her home to my Mom's place then took her to another friend's place, who is a Veterinarian, who spayed her and agreed to take care of her Med things for life in exchange for a clutch and brake job on his British Landrover. I had Whitworth tools for my bikes and knew how to do it, so game on.
I named her Lassie, as at that time ALL dogs were named Lassie to me.
After she healed up, Lassie went with me on the road to all of the places I raced and I got a piece of carpet that bungee cord held on the tank of my bikes. She was always ready to hop up there for a ride but stayed in the van when I was out racing the track and took care of her home.{the van} She liked most people and everyone liked her but don't reach into my van unless you want some teeth.
She was unique that she liked a ride around a short track, tolerated a ride on a mile track[we went too fast} but after time trials were over at a half mile and we could go slower by ourselves she was all over it and wanted a ride.
I would put the carpet on, she would jump on and assume her position and away we would go, nestled between my legs. We would go around a lap or two then I would let it out a bit and let the bike slide some and her tail would about beat my balls off. I would give her a few laps then back to the pits to unload. She never wanted off and wanted to go more. I would have to put her on the ground and she would want right back up and let's go some more. I never put her in danger, just a bit of slow sliding.
My Mom put an end to it and told me Lassie had to stay with her and she did stay with my Mom and Dad until the end.
Lassie lived to the age of 23 years with my Mom and Dad, and the rest of the family and I don't know how old she was when I picked her bedraggled ass up so she was a long lived dog that knew how to have fun and the girls loved her.
RIP Lassie, Best dog my family and I ever had. FM
