The One and Only Lady

There are dogs, but there is only one Lady and she calls me "aunt." She loves me and I love her.
I met Lady in July 2001, when I was new to Bell Buckle and she was still a youngun. As you can see, she has a gray chin now. (I have aged, too.) But another thing about her has also changed: she has grown to think of me as family, and I the same of her.

She first visited me every morning when I lived across the street from her human companions, my friends Florence and Jere. She'd trot over, sniff around, stand off in front of the bushes at first, but soon clamber up the steps onto the porch where I loved to sit, let me pet her, lean on me, and lie down next to me and let me rub her tummy till one of her companions came to take her home. Later as a teen, she and her sister Princess (who stood on her front feet to pee!) came to visit me in Sewanee. After taking a tour of my downstairs, Lady slept for the night in my entryway. Now when I stay at her house because I have to work late into the night at school, she doesn't even stir in the morning when I leave, thinking of me as one of her own.

What I love most about Lady is simple: when I enter her yard and she hears my voice, she charges me, pawing me to pet her and, whining/grunting, wiggles her whole body with pure joy and begs to hold her, rub her, talk to her, love her. No matter what anyone thinks of me, Lady loves me as only a niece can.

The Fourth

Somewhere in Florida, Virginia celebrates her third birthday on the Fourth. Here we celebrate with all kinds of activities, my favorite of which is the dog show. It began with an adopt-me-dog that later won one round. He was better behaved than most pampered pooches.

Among the costume contestants were a bumblebee and bumbledog (third place) and an American girl and her American dog (first place).

During the smallest dog contest, one of the local clowns argued that her dogs on the skewer were the tiniest. Nevertheless, a miniature chihuahua won.

When the Mistress of Ceremonies asked for jokes from the audience, a small boy who announced he is from "Winn-en-chester" told this one: "Why does the puppy hide from his mother? [pause] Because he's already been spotted! [pause] Get it? He's already spotted!!!" He won first prize.

My friend Trink is cool under the shade of a tree as we both admire this little girl pushing her tiny dog.

Walking home, I couldn't resist these signs next to the Justice and Peace booth.

With this entry I have broken my one photograph rule. I resisted the parade, cat show, dunking booth, barbecue pits, party-goers, fireworks, . . . .