Cully the culvert dog: "I didn't know what I was looking at. A  long grayish-black mass seemed to be melting into  the ground, but it was also moving horizontally.  I thought:  badger?  But I couldn't tell" (p. 11). 

 Miscellaneous--"that homely little, persistent little, loving little mix who was, I've always said, the only perfect thing I've ever had," (p. 23).

 "'She's atarded,' three  year old Guy informed me as he handed me a squirmy little curly-haired bundle of puppy.  'I teached her to ralk'" (p. 16). "...I ...put beside my bed a desk drawer filled with lots of soft rags over an alarm clock to comfort her, then I lay down, miserable, wanting to hold...my tiny puppy, and forced myself to listen to her cry--for about ten minutes. That was the end of that" (p. 17).


 "Unlikely Partners" --Miscellaneous and Thomas Ishmael Sing Sing Sing 

 "From the time Tommy recuperated until he died, they were inseparable and dependent on one another.  ....They'd tug and wrestle with whatever I gave them, especially stuffed socks" (p. 24).

 Missie and me--She was my constant companion as I read for my doctorate.

Photo by Sarah Kennedy


 Wiggle Waggle Fuzz Butt Beautiful Joe Trucker

"In his own slightly clumsy way, he wound himself around my heart...and showed me that while nothing loved can be replaced, love, itself, is healing, regenerating and enduring" (p. 64).

 Tausend Kusse--Thousand Kisses--

"He was my  only pedigreed dog, my first big dog, my only guard dog, my only impossible dog, the only animal who ever made me genuinely angry, the only one for whom my grief doesn't seem to stop.  He was my devil dog, my Dobie" (p. 75).

  Tausie surveys his kingdom.
 Tausie--with toilet tissue, of course. "He destroyed every roll of tissue I hung until the day I gave up, put it in the brush cabinet, and posted directions to it for hapless guests" (p. 76). 
  Erma, trying to get her stockings from Tausie--under the bed  (p. 78).

 Babe, The Bottle-fed Filly with Nephew Craig and Nubbins

"Babe wasn't very impressive the first few months.  Bottle-fed foals can have a rough time of it, typically scours, and we were advised to keep her hungry....  She was thin and awkward and nickered pathetically to anyone she saw" (p. 31).


 Babe, all grown up, with my dad who spoiled her rotten

"...she had milk until she was three years old.  Dad showed me once. 'Don't tell your mother,' he cautioned, 'but I give Babe milk every day.  She likes it.' And there in the old limestone  house was a fifty-pound sack of powered milk for baby horses.  A stack of sacks was rising in the corner" (p. 32).

 Shady Oaks Serenade with Claude McClintock up

"When he leaned amiably on the post, she licked his face and took off his hat. 'She was bottle-fed,' I explained, 'and she tends to be kind of mouthy....' 'Well,' he said...'she's just tops in her class.  Now....where's that horse you want me to train?'" I was a little befuddled, but Claude was more so when he understood that this was it. Babe was the  horse."

  Christmas--"I know that I would repeat the whole experience if tomorrow I should go to a field and find a dog there or two dogs there, feral dogs who have to learn everything--about humans, about the difference between a human and a shoe, about themselves, about themselves in relation to humans and refrigerators and coffee tables" (p. 105).

 Beau Brummel at ten months--"I went to see him.  A Harlequin who looks, as one of my sisters said, as though he's been running behind a car in the mud, he was shy and scared, but he licked my face--once--and that was all it took.  I got his first fifty pounds of dog food, an enormous kennel to place beside my bed, all the necessary accoutrements, and brought him home" (p. 148).

Photo courtesy of Amy Lorenz



Beau and me, Christmas 2007

Photo courtesy of Amy Lorenz

 He wins!

Photo courtesy of Amy Lorenz


"The Spearmint Waltz," written by Wm. Kloster for Miscellaneous



"The Fuzz Butt Variations," written for Trucker by Wm. Kloster