family in crisis
My granddaughter Noah has this mix of a poor dog. She named him Tucker of all things. Well, Tucker’s hair kept growing over the winter, and spring, and summer, and fall. The unfortunate thing was awkward by necessity because he couldn’t see out. He kept running into trees, and rabbits in the yard were absolutely safe.
Finally, one day while Noah was in school, someone sneaked Tucker to the hairdresser. Here’s the result.
Later, Noah asked about that strange looking dog that was prancing around the yard with such artistry? No one dared speak under penalty of death. The problem was that Noah is a pretty bright girl and soon figured it out. So she started crying, and laughing, and then crying again. Sometimes she didn’t know for sure which one she was doing.
But all ended well. Tucker had rediscovered himself, the trees were relaxed, and the rabbits hid out under the wood pile till after dark. The other dogs in the family: Chappy, Tesuque, Boss and Apache, all though Tucker was charming, so Noah was pleased at last.
Don’t you just love a story like that?