I’ll deviate from the
assignment suggested topic a bit, no one was eating cake on the living room floor. This story happened back in the late 1970’s but is still fresh in my mind.
My late wife and I had a Peek-a-Poo, a small white, curly-haired dog, Duffy came into our lives as a “give away” dog, the previous owners didn’t want to subject him to the quarantine for a dog going into Hawaii. So he took over our lives. He’d come running to the door when I would come home from work, jumping and wanting his evening’s ear scratching, and petting. Well, one evening when I opened the door ‘he’ came to greet me, but something seemed wrong. Gone was his lively jumping. I called out “Honey, Duffy doesn’t seem like himself, what’s wrong?”
To my surprise Duffy appeared at the end of the hall in his normal spirits. Unbeknownst to me we had become dog sitters for another Peek-a-Poo. Pookie and Duffy could have been a liter-mates. They looked so much the same. For the next couple of weeks they shared everything, food-dish, tennis balls, and most of all our love and caring.