I loved Clifford books as a little girl. I can remember looking through my Clifford books before I could even read. I think my mom bought them through my older brother’s Scholastic orders. One of my favourite was Clifford’s Halloween. Oh, that Clifford dressed up as a ghost. Nobody could tell who he was.
And who could forget Clifford performing good deeds, and sling-shotting the kitten through the air?
When we were big enough to go to the school library, Clifford was one of the first series’ that I gravitated toward, and consequently the first library book I ever lost was a Clifford. (No, I haven’t lost very many library books since. It was a very traumatic experience. I thought the librarian would eat me for dinner.)
I don’t remember wanting a dog as big as Clifford. I could see how impractical that would be. And even though it was never mentioned in those books, I couldn’t imagine how you would clean up the droppings of such a humongous animal. But I loved Clifford as a puppy, he was cute and cuddly. I would have loved a Clifford plushie.
My younger brother watched Clifford on TV, but I was too old for it by then. And I didn’t like the dogs talking in it. Good grief, everybody knows that dogs don’t talk.
It is sad to say good-bye to an old friend.