In the course of packing up her stuff, T unearthed a sun-faded photo cube of my grandma's, its faces pictures of my brother & me.

Here's one of me & my first dog, Huckleberry.



We didn't have Huckleberry very long. He was run over by the milkman. My babysitter was afraid to tell me what had happened, so waited for my mom to get home from work, on her arrival, I told her all about it.

This is my brother & I with my second dog, Skye.



Skye escaped the house during her first heat & was gang raped by the neighborhood dogs, because she was so young, she had to have a therapeutic abortion. Shortly after that she was hit by a car & developed hip problems that would last the rest of her life. She also developed a flea allergy which made most of her hair fall out and put her in a constant nasty temper. Always very protective of us. She lived a long, if not a happy, life. When my mom took her to the vet to be put to sleep, they were playing the Mourner's Kaddish on NPR.

Peretz is my third dog. He's doing great.