When I was five years old, my sister, Kathy, got a dog. Specifically, a beagle from Alaska. That's where we were living at the time. I loved that dog to pieces. Long after my sisters left home, I still had my sweet little Lucy. She would curl up in her basket and I would snuggle up next to her and lift that long beagle ear to tell her my deep dark secrets. She was just the best. When I was 20, Lucy died. She had lived a great life and had become old and ill. My sister, Linda, had to have her put to sleep becuase my parents and I were in Pittsburgh. I remember the phone call we received from her letting us know Lucy was gone. I cried myself to sleep that night. I loved her so much.
When I was 16, I got my first pet. She was the prettiest long hair gray kitten from the SPCA. I named her Twinkle only to have her name changed that next morning by my mother. She was now Mini and would continue to go by Mini the rest of her years. She was so small she could curl up in a Cool Whip container. I loved that cat so much. But, she loved my mother (and father) more. In 1996, she became ill and had to be put to sleep. She was a beautiful regal cat. I miss them both.
Little Mini with my dad (cool sideburns pop!)
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