Yes, Deb, I see you loud and clear 😆 🤣 😂

My late doggy Roxie is the Jack Russel terrier/Beagle mix. She lived up to 17 years old. My doggy Caddy is the white dog which is a Shiba Inu/Pomeranian mix. Right now she is 15 years old and is still pretty active by taking pain meds for her bad left hip and osteoarthritis. I actually got her a year before I got married. My hubby wanted me to move in with him when we were engaged. So I told I will move in with him as long as I get a dog. I couldn't take Roxie with me since she was my family dog. So that is when I got my special dog Caddy. I love her so much. And it makes me emotional that she is already 15 years old!!!

sometime in 1975-1976, I was helping Mom bring groceries in and our overweight boxer/beagle Blackie (*NOT* racially motivated, it was her coloring as a pup and that's what I named her when Dad and I picked her up), ran past me out the front door and I watched her move as fast as those little legs could carry her, right towards the street. At the same time, a 1971 Ford Country Squire station wagon (lol, I'm old...) turned the corner. The hit was unavoidable, but, if it weren't for her extra baggage, she'd have been done for. As it was, we watched in terror as the passenger side wheels went straight over her like a furry speed bump. Totally undaunted, Blackie literally rolled under the two tires, lost control of her bladder, and ran screaming back in the house. We took her to the University of Pennsylvania Animal Hospital, they x-rayed her (betcha that was expensive back then) and checked her out nose to stubby tail, contusions and 1 small scrape on her nose. Being hard-core Catholic at the time, I was more or less convinced that she had a doggie Guardian Angel watching over her that day. She crossed the rainbow bridge in early 1979.

Dad really wanted a dog after a while and, after I went to Boot Camp in Waukegan, IL and training in San Diego, Ca, came home for Christmas leave to meet my new bestest buddy, Max, a Springer Spaniel who had the energy of a thousand suns. He greeted me at the door like a friend not seen in years and, the dream of all young lads at some point, jumped into bed and slept that night with me, and the nights I was home. As much as I hated to leave my family to go back cross-country, I hated leaving Max behind. The day I waited for the van to take me to LaGuardia International Airport for the flight back west, he was *terrified* of cameras, especially with a flash. I have a picture of him trying to escape, but I can't remember where it's stored.

And this is why coffee is good for the mind, I found the picture as Max was trying to escape...