Train SPRINT.

The holiday is almost over and now we must leave Cornwall for London to catch our flight back to Montreal. I'm writing this to you as I sit on the train. A train I almost missed.

Yes, this morning the Huz and I got up early, rallied our three children to finish packing, eat a hearty breakfast, hug their Granny goodbye, and head down to the train station. No one argued and all was well in the world...

...until we got to the train station and I realized I didn't have my purse. A chill ran down my spine and grey shadows stomped around and rubbed their bogeys on my soul.

Folks, I ran. I ran like the wind, I ran like never before, I ran up hill, up the arcade stairs, up alleyways and up cobbled streets. Up, up, up I ran without stopping, past old ladies and prams with babies, my little heart pounding, blood vesseles bursting and lungs straining. I MUST NOT MISS MY TRAIN!!!

I thought of my poor family standing on the platform waiting for me as the train also waited... and then pulled away. What if they left without me? I ran harder.

Got to the house, gave SharkDOG one last hug, grabbed my purse and ran all the way back down to the station.

My family were all waiting for me! The train was still in the station! In fact, we had plenty of time to walk leisurely down the platform and climb aboard.

The lesson here? Nobody's perfect. Also? I'm not in as bad shape as I thought. They said I made it there and back in about 12 minutes.

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The Bad DOG.

This is not a great choice of name for a dog, I think to myself as I chase after her through the park, shouting, "Baby!! Come back!! Baby! Oh Baby, please come baaaaaaaack!!!"

Baby's been with us since she was five weeks old, rescued from a litter of puppies headed for the mill. Pretty white fluff-ball, had us all fooled.



But she's been hard work. For starters, she's smart. Too smart. And she's terrified of the front door. Intelligence + Fear = TROUBLE.

Once she bit the Post Lady on the face. The Post Lady bent down to pet her at the front door, breaking Rule No. 1 in the Mail Man's Rule Book. This made Baby a HERO in the Dog World.

And just the other day, my thirteen year old daughter came home with this one boy. Baby tried to eat him!! And who can blame her? He came through the front door!

Training? Oh she's had LOTS of training. And so have we...

Don't worry, the Post Lady was OK, and so was the boy. Despite the fact that Baby is a Bad DOG, I still love her.

Tell me about your dogs.

PS. These are life-drawn sketches. That's why they look a little different from what you usually see up here.

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