Before I headed back north, I took one last stroll around the old homestead. D. had a stone with my mother's name made and placed it at the bottom of the yard. It was placed in the same area as an old marker for a favorite dog from the 1960s (previous owners before our time) as well as a marker for my mother's dog, Aggie. Dad didn't exactly like the idea of comparing Mom with dogs, but I thought this was perfect. Mom was a lover of dogs. When I was in Sewanee, we would both get quite excited if we saw a dog in the woods and would, often enough, go outside and surreptitiously try to get it to come say hello to us. So, no, Mom was in no way a dog, but she was a dog lover, so what better place to have a remembrance of her than in the same spot where her own Irish Setter and other pets throughout the years had been similarly loved and kept. Maybe that doesn't make sense. I don't care. I liked it.
Who knows what kind of pup Kelloff was, but he was well liked one can assume.