Oh, oh! I wanna see the baby sasquatches, sasquatch's, sasquatchi, sasqueech - what's the plural form, anyway??
I mentioned that baby book earlier - there was a photo in it of my pal Dutchess. She was a scrawny, dirty stray I secretly fed food scraps and cared for for at least 2 weeks before my mother, hosting a bridge party or something for her friends one night, opened the patio curtins and there she sat, right at the patio doors. Scared the crap out of my mother - NOT an animal person.
My dad drove her off to the dog pound the very next day.
I became so despondent (and angry) that our live-in housekeeper told my dad she was afraid I would run away if I didn't get my dog back, lol. We lived happily ever after for many years - she was the only dog my parents ever had and I loved that dog more than life itself.
My mom quit entering my 3rd floor bedroom by the time I was in middle school because she never knew what she might find - and didn't want to know ... rodents, snakes, lizards ... even raised 3 orphaned possums and 2 Mallard ducks there. Good times
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