day 5: family tree (digger, part two)

Me again, Baxter your roving rover reporter, reporting to you from my house cuz I am still grounded. Today was lookin like it was gonna be the pits but then I found these picture albums. And guess what I found for us to read - the second part to Mom's story about Digger, mom n dad's first doxie. U wanna read it with me?



"This is the Digger I never knew, a young wiggly puppy who grew into a lad that ultimately kept my future husband company when they both lived in a drafty room above a sandwich shop, pursuing his master's degree in a field he no longer practices. Digger's dad, that is, not Digger. During the frigid cold days of winter, Digger would burrow under his blankies and snoooze the day away deep in the bowels of his blanket igloo, patiently awaiting dad's return from a long day of scholastic endeavors. Patiently, but with a dash of howling that could be sometimes heard in the shop below.



In addition to being a howler, Digger, apparently, was a digger, though he had apparently given up that skill by the time I came on the scene. I missed out on the dirt mounds and dirty paws, missed out on the time when my husband-that-I-didn't-know-yet chided poor Digs for constantly whining and digging by the deck at the townhouse, til finally it was discovered that the source of Digger's interest was indeed a rat and the nest it had made under the deck. This boy was on a mission, and neither chiding nor dirt were going to hinder this hound from getting his quarry.

There aren't many pictures of this time in Digger's life. The rat incident came some years after this picture was taken, during, I presume, what I like to call his ready-for-roasting years. Every doxie, it seems, goes through his butterball moments in life.



Though some, earlier than others."



Whoopsie. Is that me?? I guess I was kinda jiggly when I first came into mom and dad's home. Keep me company again tomorrow, will you?