Muffin
In May 1994 my Dad gave this to my Mom for Mother's Day.
Okay, in reality he rescued her from neglect. She was about a year and a half to two years old when we got her, she had lived with a cat for a year, so she was . . . She acted like a cat most of her life, tried to climb trees after squirrels, and chased my dog Charlie. She taught him to climb on the back of our couch, which is why until his death the sofa had a permanent dip in the back. Charlie died about six years ago, and she loved to hang on his fur and be carried around the house. Best trick Muffin had, I had taught her to find Charlie for me. Charlie was a medium sized dog, so the six comparison was amusing to say the least. He was loud, chased lunch-meat trucks, and belched and farted on command. My high school friends and I can take credit for that trick.
Sorry, I don't have one of the two of them on my computer. Honestly, I don't have it in me to dig up right now anyway. Don't forget, Muffin was fierce with a bone.
Mom had a love hate affair with the dog, she loved to trip me, and she was really always Dad's dog. As the White Castle posting attests. And if you weren't sure, he even played with her. Amusing and true.
His idea, not mine. Honestly.
Well, Muffin got old and we finally had to bite the bullet and put her down. She stopped sleeping in bed with us about eight months ago, and in the past six months she had gone mostly blind. Oh, she got mean and didn't want to be touched or bothered. There's no one to eat the crumbs, ride in the car with me, and trip me when I come in the front door. Good dog, sad times.
She remained strange in the fact that she would always lay on my papers and student exams.
Okay, in reality he rescued her from neglect. She was about a year and a half to two years old when we got her, she had lived with a cat for a year, so she was . . . She acted like a cat most of her life, tried to climb trees after squirrels, and chased my dog Charlie. She taught him to climb on the back of our couch, which is why until his death the sofa had a permanent dip in the back. Charlie died about six years ago, and she loved to hang on his fur and be carried around the house. Best trick Muffin had, I had taught her to find Charlie for me. Charlie was a medium sized dog, so the six comparison was amusing to say the least. He was loud, chased lunch-meat trucks, and belched and farted on command. My high school friends and I can take credit for that trick.
Mom had a love hate affair with the dog, she loved to trip me, and she was really always Dad's dog. As the White Castle posting attests. And if you weren't sure, he even played with her. Amusing and true.
His idea, not mine. Honestly.
Well, Muffin got old and we finally had to bite the bullet and put her down. She stopped sleeping in bed with us about eight months ago, and in the past six months she had gone mostly blind. Oh, she got mean and didn't want to be touched or bothered. There's no one to eat the crumbs, ride in the car with me, and trip me when I come in the front door. Good dog, sad times.
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