Yesterday was Daisy and my day of the week to visit the folks residing in the Green Houses and while everyone remembered Daisy’s name I frequently had to remind them of my name. One lady we visited with had a story for us (my wife was with us again) that was bittersweet.
She and her husband owned a small dog that stayed outside most of the time but developed a pattern having to do with a shared time with her husband. At 9 p.m. every night the dog would scratch at the door to be let in at which time the dog and her master would each have a bowl of ice cream. Then the dog would be ready to go back outside.
Unfortunately, someone took the dog from their yard one day and try as they might they never were able to recover the dog.