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Hi Suzanne,
I love the variety of books that are introduced
here. This has certainly revived in me a passion for reading. I have an interesting animal tale. July 4th of this year a buddy and I were boating on the Trout River when some fisherman called us over and told us there was a dog on the concrete pilon under the railroad trestle that crossed the river. We went over to check out this dog and it was nowhere in sight. Some other folks said it had jumped in the water 15-20 minutes ago. So off we go upriver; as the tide was coming in we figured the animal was swept up. Sure enough in the distance we see a little head bobbing in the water, I'm thinking it must be a chihuaha it's so small.
When we put up along side it's a poor little kitten swimming for it's life with a few fleas perched on it's nose for refuge. So with one hand I scooped her into the boat. She hissed and screamed and ran up
under the inner tube I had on the boat. "Great now I have a wild cat on board," I said. We wrapped her in a towel and put her in a bucket and took her home. It took nearly a month of persistent cajoling
before she finally trusted us and let us be a part of her feline family. Now she runs up when we come home and loves to roll and show off and sneak attack. She's quite vocal too and when she's all snuggled in beside
us in bed, she just purr's like a cat twice her size. We named her Spitzer after Mark Spitz the swimmer.
– Ora
Dear Suzanne,
As nights get cooler in the fall in California, my six
territorial Persian cats take their positions on my bed each evening: Sweet William (the leader of the pack) in the crook of my arm; Danny above my head on the pillow; and the pair of whites at my feet. I was lucky enough last spring to add two kittens to the family and they've decided to purr in each ear. Sometimes in the night, I inevitably get claustrophobic and slink off to a child-size bed in the guest room -- leaving the master bedroom to the decision makers. --Sharon
Hi Suzanne,
I thought I'd send you a poem that my mother wrote around 1979 or '80. She made up several poems over the years about Christmas, graduation, going off to the
Navy etc. In 1979 I typeset them and had them bound into a nice leather covered book. I think I had 75 of them printed/bound for her family and friends. The below is one about Rip, her dog.
Dear Suzanne,
We recently buried our seventeen year old poodle named Peaches.
The details are too sad to relate. But it comes with a comforting prologue. Peaches appeared to me a few weeks ago and snuggled into bed with us as she did nightly while alive. I was able to stroke her and smell her once again healthy, whole body. Her fur was shiny and clean and she smelled like I remembered when she was a young vibrant puppy. Was it a dream or was it her telling me she was once again alive and restored? Does it matter? I know what it meant to me. --Gayle
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