A dog is the greatest gift a parent can give a child.  Ok, a good education, then a dog. ~ John Grogan

Do you know how sometimes, just out of habit, you turn to look for someone who’s not there? Usually at this point in the evening our beautiful snow princess, aka, the big white dog, would be snuggled next to me, even across my lap, pretending to weigh less than sixty pounds.  But she’s not here in California. She’s back home on the other coast, holding down the fort. Seeing her was just a trick of the eyes, like the image that remains after you’ve looked directly at a bright light.

By this time in the evening she’d hope I wouldn’t mind the way I have to hold my laptop off to the side, or the fact that, in warm weather, she somehow radiates extra heat to those nearby to cool herself. I know she’s happy there, but now I have to cheer myself up.  I flip on the television and get back to writing.

Ah, perfect! The Westminster Dog Show! You might think that would make me sad.  After all, the snow princess loved this show! She’d place her chin on her two front paws and carefully watch the show dogs trot around the arena like it was the red carpet of the Academy Awards, and none measured up to her own winter ermine attire. Now I’m smiling.

Ha! The miniature poodle!  She has a huge fluffy cape trimmed around her shoulders,  and her hair style is a cross between Grace Jones’ and the Roman helmet of Minerva. Her fur is trimmed with fuzzy little black pom-poms on her four ankles, two hips, and the end of the tail.  The announcer is explaining how this is supposed to protect the dog’s joints when hunting.  Kind of the way six-inch heels protect the feet when strolling Seventh Avenue in New York?

OK, I’m laughing now. I hope she’s watching.