Friday, September 29, 2006


I looked like this one day this summer.









I am not a dog person. I had cats instead of children.













This isn't even all of them. There are FIVE KITTIES who own me.





















My mother brought a fussy little dog home when I was in Junior High School. It required a lot more "maintenance" than any cat... a special blend of smelly squishy food and kibble, bathing, brushing, constant attention, several "walks" every day... and it ate my favorite shoes. The dog was quietly "disappeared" after a brief trial period.




I met a dog person a few years ago. We have been influencing each other in a merged household for some time now.


























Something happened to me. I didn't want to love the yellow dog, but I couldn't help it. Two of the cats eventually befriended her. It was really weird. But the yellow dog became gravely ill. She left us in early summer.

Suddenly we were dogless, and there was a void in the household. I couldn't deny that the good puppy energy had added something vital, and that its lack was felt by (almost) all. We began to talk about dogs. We researched them and visited with them in shelters and looked at pictures of them online. I knew that one of us might crack at any time.Then we met Buster.