When I was four years old, my family adopted a little mutt (a beagle/terrier/poodle mix) from the pound. I had her until I was 21 – when I finally, and painfully, decided to have her put her down.
Afterwards I used to remark that having had a dog so long, I didn’t know that if you dropped food you also had to pick it up. Muffin was always at my side (especially in the kitchen) and a big chow hound who never missed an opportunity to get an extra snack.
Albert has taken over her “Hoover” mantel. Usually he scores bits of veggies that drop off the cutting board, but this morning it was oats.
