I was looking through some old photos and found this one of Trixie, a dog we owned when I was little. Really it’s more of a photo of the dog house my dad built than of Trixie, and I remember the pen (which he also built) and the dog house more than I remember the dog. In the photo, she seems more stout than I remembered her being. About all I can recall about her is that sometimes we’d keep her on a chain in the yard (with lots of room to move about) and that she at least once broke the chain and ran off. I think she either ran away or was hit by a car. This photo is from 1981, when I would have been 4 or 5, and I have photos of our next dog, Bo Peep, from 1982, so this must have been pretty close to the end of Trixie’s time with us.