As I type this Tallulah is curled up in her bed on the floor here in the family room. From time-to-time she’ll make a deep almost guttural noise. It reminds me of my high school days, waiting for the subway while an out-of-service train sat on an adjacent track. That train was doing nothing, but every once in a while it would make noise, then go quiet. That’s Tallulah exactly.
“She’s made of magic… and cheese,” is Stef’s analysis of Tallulah’s charm. Stef is correct.
Being a dogsitter is like being a grandparent. You get all the fun with none of the responsibility. And, like a grandparent, you can spoil to your heart’s content with full deniability..
Tracey, if Tallulah has developed a taste for sushi, we don’t know how. Honest.
Blogger’s note: You can read more about Tallulah’s visits, with photos, by clicking here.