Sylvester looked at me with one expression in his eyes," Why?" And I knew he was saying, how could you do this to me? You have betrayed me. And I couldn't answer him and explain why I had got a dog. Now our backyard has lost its appeal for Sylvester, that special sunspot under the tree. Instead a hyper Westie, named, Snowball, runs around full of glee, digging holes and barking his head off, while Sylvester looks accusingly on from the neighbor's yard. A dull yard that holds none of the wild delights of ours. Sylvester I'm sorry! And maybe it means nothing to you, but you're still my muse! (See my page, Sylvester, the Tuxedo Cat and while you're at it check out the new page, Snowball, the Westie. But don't tell Sylvester!)
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