The dog was really not extraordinary, not in the beginning. They found him in the only socially acceptable fashion. He was an orphaned mutt. They picked him less because of his disposition than for the squealing of their youngest girl ( Read more... )

She is an army of white lace and boning, there are drums beating behind her. In her head there is a flurry of hooves and guns blazing with each step she takes, a thousand John Waynes on each side. No mere decoration, too much woman. She threatens to burst through her foundations, split seams and rip eyelets from their soft cotton sockets. In the ( Read more... )