The people who live here have gone away, they've left a dog called Charley to take care of me. He's taking the role very seriously and is keeping me in sight at all times, making sure that I eat all my food and don't leave anything not even in the pot.
Last night Charley was concerned that I might run off with the telly or all the food. When I was nearly asleep he crept onto the bed so quietly I wouldn't notice and lay across my legs to prevent my getaway.
Today he took me out and tried to cheer me up by bringing me toys and sticks but I was in a mean mood and kept on throwing them all away.
The Gulf of New Mexico.
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I always perk up when I see that the New Yorker has a piece by John McPhee,
and this one (archived) is the latest in his “Tabula Rasa” series of
reminiscen...
5 hours ago
We all need a Charley...
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