The first dog in this house was Frida, who made our acquaintance as she trotted down the side of a very busy highway. When no one claimed her, she came to live with me
and very quickly grew into top dog,
be it top of the steps
or top of the dome.For the fifteen or more years she lived with me, this is where she was most of the time. Checking out the neighborhood. Occasionally barking at someone who didn’t belong there.
When Diego found me a few years later and persuaded me he should join the family, he generally preferred to hang out by the pool
and they both hung out by their food dishes at certain periods of the day.
Then, Morrie arrived.
Frida was suspicious
and Morrie quickly wound up in the brig. Why?
His consumption of three dog beds and a cat bed within a month’s period had something to do with it. When I got back from my writing retreat in December, Morrie had totally torn up Frida’s bed and left Diego’s untouched. Bad boy!!!
I didn’t do it, Ma! Sure, Morrie.
Side view of felon.
Sadly, Frida left us, leaving Morrie and Frida to tussle it out over who was top dog.
And Frida’s ashes went into this effigy which we concreted in place on her favorite place on the dome, to watch for as long as I have any say in the matter.
I only hope she is watching and knows.
Well, I am, Mom.
Diego chooses other ways to try to convince me he is the one at the top of the heap.
Yoli thought Brian was top dog, from the first.
Diego has had a few embarrassing periods he thought unbecoming to a top dog.
Morrie got to hide out at the beach for awhile
where he found other dogs to feel superior to.
And surprise, surprise, Diego sorta missed him.
