Alastair

It's the next-door neighdog who had the poison ivy on him!

THE DOG!

The dog who comes over to visit me just like my old next door neighdog did when I was growing up. Her name was Scupper. I like to pretend that Scupper is still alive. Scupper was a German Shorthaired Pointer, and she was named after Scuppers the Sailor Dog. I wish I had a scanner. I have a picture of me in a Lanz of Salzburg flannel nightgown, holding onto Scupper's neck. In her mouth is a dollar bill that her mumma had given her to bring to me. I have my big, pink plastic-rimmed glasses (like these but clear, light pink) on and a perm.

I'm in *college* at the time, oy.

I've never mourned Scupper--she's still alive. Right? RIGHT???????????????????

(Oh god, my doggie lust is just over the top at this instant. Alastair is really getting to me. Sweet cutiepie. He tends to be out in the early mornings when I wake up. When I step outside, he hears me and comes running for a hug and a pat and a snuggle. Damn urishiol!)

P.S. that dog looks like Scupper, not like Alastair