Maggie is a Boston Terrier.  She is a dog, but don’t tell her I said that.  She thinks she is the ruler of our kingdom. (Granted it is a small kingdom, but never-the-less she is the ruler.)

Maggie arranges the pillows on the sofa to HER liking.  Do you think Kongs could be considered pacifiers?

Any easy chair will do for Maggie. This is her passive resistance mode.  “Just make me get up.”

Maggie barks and greets visitors just wanting to be friendly, but sometimes we have to put up the baby gate.  She is too friendly, or even worse – she decides to make a run out the front door for a romp in the neighborhood. (She always comes back, but it is a dangerous world out there.)

Yes, we took her to obedience school, but it didn’t take – we were the failures so we are told.  I agree, but…

Here she is waiting for someone to throw a ball or Kong.  She persistently plays catch with Ever-Lovin’. (Even in the house.)

Maggie came upstairs wanting me to play with her.   “Sorry Maggie.  I am writing a blog.”

“Oh well.  I will just have to push the ball and kong down the stairs and make my own entertainment.”

We got Maggie to keep us company in our old age. (Reports extol the benefits of having a pet.  It is suppose to be good for you.  Even my Dr. asked if we had a pet, and wrote said information into my chart.)  Number Three Son found Maggie and encouraged us to buy her.  Thus, after a trip to Greenville, Texas, we were the proud owners of Maggie – Princess Margaret to be exact.

Long live the Princess!

Blessings to you and yours,