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The Maggie Tree

Back to our old dog, Maggie. When she died two and half years ago, we planted a tree in her memory. We called it "The Maggie Tree." It's been struggling for about a year. It produced leaves this summer but seemed to lose its leaves earlier than the other trees in the Fall. Today, much to our chagrin, it had broken off and was being carried around by our new dog, Sunday. My girls were beside themselves in grief. The last living thing that connected them to the old friend had died. Sunday got the worst of it for desecrating her memory tree. Somehow having Sunday come is sometimes just a good scapegoat. She's in the doghouse right now. Oh, when I say "doghouse" I really mean the garage. You know, it's much too cold for a dog to be outside.

Uh, huh (picture me standing with my arms folded and one hip sticking out. Add a skeptical look to my face. There. That's it).

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