12:18 AM at the Casa; although the calender tells me it's officialy Charlie Bravo Day, somehow I just can't seem to make myself believe it. I mean, I AM the…
Dad here; facts are like swimsuits, as what they reveal is interesting but what they hide is vital. Every time I see the story and pictures of our first meeting…
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak, squeak, squeak... Dang it, Charlie, how am I supposed to concentrate with you squeaking that stupid ball in my face? Squeak, squeak... And how many times have…
Dad here; it's been a year since Stevie's departure. I had thought of just reposting her earlier accounts, but somehow it seems to me like she deserves a better effort…
It's clammy and cloudy at the Casa, with some seriously cold weather moving in towards the end of the week; not the type of climate conducive to flouncing and frolicking.…
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