2010: Bashi and Lily

Abstract

A year ago, I woke up wanting a dog. Last evening, my brother’s wife called from Shreveport to say, “We’ve rescued a dawg, and we’ve named huh Happy aftah Barrie’s chial-hood dawg.” But Happy was not his dog. She was my dog. Father had brought her in a taped-up cardboard box on the Christmas Eve when I was four-and-a-half. No one else guessed that there was a puppy inside that box but I did from the yapping. I named her Happy after the dog in Barrie’s Elson Reader. Father said she was a rat terrier.