18 December 2007

15. Dear Sasha

Dear Sasha,
winter has definitely descended. Bucky and I went for a walk last night and I knew it was cold when his little toes were laced with ice globs. I asked him to sniff for you. He's no inspector puppy but he sometimes feels up to a challenge. You, my dear, are the challenge of the decade. He sniffed around a little on each block and seemed very disappointed and uninspired. Poor Buck-o. I got his hopes raised too high that he'd get to meet his auntie Sasha.

Unless that's too presumptuous of me? You'd be a good auntie if you could just see his curls.

So for now I'll set up the doggie treadmill in the basement because it's too damn cold outside for any small creature. Especially my beloved.

S.

p.s. When the going gets tough, Sasha, the tough pick up the phone.

2 comments:

Laurie said...

buck-o!

Anonymous said...

What? Do you know my Bucky? Where did we meet? Were you the person who put him up for adoption at the Humane Society? Are you searching for us?

S.

p.s. If you have intentions, provide proof, please.