(alternate post title 1: Sunday Bloody Sunday) (alternate post title 2: Say hello to my little friend!) Sunday morning after breakfast I was on the floor with the dogs, playing. I had a ball in my hand and was waving it back and forth it in a teasey "who wants the ball?" way. Murphy was very wound-up, decided he wanted the ball, and went for it. Except he missed and got my lip instead. He immediately let go. We paused for a half-second, shocked. I saw the blood drip into my hand and ...
“I am I because my little dog knows me.” – G. Stein
