Between the ages of 5 and 9, we lived in Norwalk, California on Oracle Street. It was an interesting place to live. Across the large street was the California State Hospital for mentally ill patients. We would often get late-night visitors at our back door, inmates who had escaped and climbed over our brick fence.

It was both scary and exhilerating. I remember one night, some man was banging on our back door, yelling, “Lucille! I know you’re in there. Come out of there or I’m coming in.” We called the police and it was a patient from the hospital.

We eventually got a German Shepherd, or as we knew it then, a Police Dog. His name was Chief Sacagawea of Echo Valley, but we just called him Chief. He was AKC registered.

We taught him to attack anyone who came over the wall. The nocturnal visits from patients of the hospital ceased after a few butts got bitten. Good times.

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