PlazaJen: Passion Knit

I talked to my dad on my drive in to work & told him I'd done some writing about Frank & Carly; he told me that he'd gotten a copy of the article that was written about them, oh so many years ago. He's going to send it to me - he'd gotten it from the doctor who bought their land as a getaway acreage. In our chat, I reminded him about the lemon meringue pie & he reminded me of the dogs' names - it was like uncorking a bottle of champagne, the memories just flooded around us.

How on earth I could have forgotten those dogs' names: Toots and Casper. Toots ruled the roost, was the yellowy-lab sort of mix, and Casper was just some flotsam-jetsam mix of something that had a lot of hair. For some reason I'd made Casper into a hound, in my memory twists, but indeed, he was an explosion of fur and not exactly placeable. And Frank - lordy. Dad reminded me of how he'd imitate Toots defending her food, like a maraca rattling in the back of his throat, lips curled up, exposing his teeth.

Dogs. For those of us who love them, we sure can connect easily with others who do, too. The photos from New Orleans shred my heart, especially those of lost animals & then even the happy photos, of people reunited with their pets. (I should note it's pretty easy to get me weepy.) Maybe because I love our own doggies so much, I can't imagine being without the comfort & joy they give us.

Suzy & Polly: lovable lummoxes!