“I suggested we bring the puppies inside during cold weather, but Pop felt inside pets were a modern sickness, like food allergies and seat belts.” – Harrison Scott Key

I came across the Harrison Scott Key quote this summer in his article, “Training for Dummies,” in the June/July issue of “Garden & Gun.” If you read G&G, you are, no doubt, familiar with the magazine’s “Good Dog” feature.

Key’s essay is a personal favorite on many levels none the least of which is that he is probably the funniest person (and writer) that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and reading. At the time, I filed it away in my writing journal as it made me realize that, in many respects, our fathers had been cut from the same cloth.

I thought that many times throughout my reading of his first book, “The World’s Largest Man,” and reading the essay convinced me. Like Key, I too had suggested (actually pled) with my father that it would be much better, safer, caring (the list goes on) to allow my new puppy to spend the night in my room his first night at our house.

However, my dad was of the firm opinion that “dogs belonged outside” and that’s just where Big Ben slept that first night (and every night thereafter), sometimes on the carport and sometimes, whenever the weather occasioned leaving my bedroom window open, underneath my windowsill.

Big Ben was the stuff of legend, a German shepherd/Collie mix that could play football and, in all probability, still holds the world record for mileage traveled by a dog while in pursuit of his boy on a bicycle. Where I went, Ben followed. He went everywhere. Everywhere, that is, except my bedroom.

My protestations to change Ben’s nightly lodging accommodations continued, but alas, Ben was relegated to the status of outside dog, and I made a solemn vow that one day when I had my own place, I would have my dog inside. I’m proud to say that I have kept that vow with a long line of stellar dogs over the years.

The first of those was Parker the golden retriever. G gave Parker to me for my birthday while we were in college and she was our apartment and housemate through our courting, our marriage and, later, the arrival of our children, Tate and Dan.

Parker was followed by Gracie and Mack the goldens (two more of the best ever) and, currently, Moose the German shorthaired pointer, Murphy the golden, and Birdie the bluetick beagle (the world’s finest dog trio).

Honestly, it was actually Birdie who brought the Harrison Scott Key quote and my vow to mind at about 1:45-ish Monday morning when she stretched and, in the process, raked at least three of her four legs down my back.

Yes, she sleeps in the bed with us. I told you that I was serious about my vow as a child and, for the record, even with the sleep disruptions, I’ve had no regrets since making it. Lost sleep, I’ve had, but not regrets.

Now, I know that there are typically two camps when it comes to this issue—inside and outside. I also realize that there are variations within these camps. For instance, there are the “inside the house, but not on the furniture” people and there are the “outside and in a kennel or dog run” people.

As our furniture can attest, we’ve never been either of those people. In fact, by having a long-haired, medium-haired, and short-haired dog, we are an equal opportunity dog hair household, which means that G is a serial sweeper.

Sure, there’s a tradeoff to having dogs in the house. You must choose your chair wisely if you’re in your “church clothes,” but the greeting you receive upon opening the door at day’s end can quickly turn any frown upside down. That dog love makes the endless sweeping, the occasional late night vomit clean-up sessions, and the need to replace furniture a “bit” more frequently totally worth it.

When I lost Big Ben way too early to the bumper of a speeding Cadillac (he was chasing away an American bulldog that was pursuing me on my bike), my broken heart sought the only balm that held the power to heal that type of loss—a puppy.

Katie the English shepherd answered that call. When I was reliving these precious memories of childhood while writing this article, another memory came to me. It was the memory of Katie’s first night at our house, a night that she spent curled up beside me in my bed.

It seems that even “outside dog” people do have a heart, and it seems that even those hearts are susceptible to a boy’s tears and a mother’s pleas. That night, with Katie nestled beside me to stanch her homesick cries, I never thought of the sleepless nights to come. I only thought about how much I missed Ben, how much I loved this new pup, and how, one day when I grew up, I would have moments like that every night.

Here’s to dreams coming true, to the love of a good “inside” dog (or three), and to seeing you out there in our great outdoors.

Email outdoors columnist Brad Dye at braddye@comcast.net.