NOLA STARs

O.K., Dennis, this is a topic I can get my teeeth into.

I've always had pets: dogs, cats, goldfish, a duck, a turtle, ad nauseum. Most were beings that lived their lives just as they should. Cats being cats, and dogs being dogs...you know what I mean.

But Holly Ruth was memorable. I was an Avon Lady at the time, and one of my customers had picked up a puppy in an industrial area who looked lost. She was looking for a soft heart to take the gangly pup in. What could I do? She was a customer, I took the dog.

The name, Holly Ruth, was always a favorite of mine. I wanted to call each of my daughters Holly Ruth, but my husband would have none of it. So, I named the dog, Holly Ruth.

Holly was a Doberman mix - really mixed. She was full of personality and a real clown. Our youngest was just beginning to walk, and he and Holly were great friends. He would toddle far out into the fenced back yard with the dog right beside him. When he stopped to take a breath, Holly would sidle up to him, look away and bump him with her hind quarters. He'd fall, but scramble up again. He never caught on to Holly's game.

One other story of  baby John and Holly. I was having coffee with a good friend on the patio. My back was to the sliding glass door. Her startled look interrupted our conversation.  "Do you mind if your dog eats your baby's leg?" I chuckled, and said, "She's just gently nibbling."

Holly worst trait was to eat anything she could get down her throat. We pushed food to the middle of the counter, so she couldn't reach it. But, as she grew, nothing was safe. Not even the two apple pies I just removed from the oven to cool. Ate the centers out of both of them.

I was furious. The kids were devastated. That was the last straw. "Kids, we need to pray for a good home for Holly."

A few days later my nephew stopped by.

"What a cool dog."

"Ya want her?"

"Sure, I keep getting dobermans stolen, and I need a good junkyard dog to guard my place."

"You wanna check with your wife?"

"Naw. She'll be delighted."

Off he went with Holly's head and lolling tongue jutting out the car window.

I waited a few days before I called.

"Holly ate a package of frozen hamburger, two sofa pillows, and now she's starting on the sofa."

I don't know what happened to Holly...and I didn't ask.