Wednesday, June 5, 2013

My wonderful step mom sold my dad's truck to her brother. Sometimes he comes over to the house to visit. When he turns onto our street, and Pearl, my dad's dog, hears his truck, she runs, full out, tail wagging, as fast as she can, to get to the gate to wait for the truck, to see who gets out.

If you see me crying in my car at a stop light this week, that's probably why.

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