Worked for several hours in the "junk" room today, sorting through an astounding amount of meaningless paper. And mold. But very happily came across this picture of Floppy, the dog who came to our house the day I was born. Whenever I got sad, I'd take him under the big old oak dining room table and put my arms around him and we'd both just sit there, happy as could be, invisible because of the table cloth. It was my hidden home inside our house. No doubt about it. He was my guardian angel.