She was a rewscue dog in Phoenix, saved from an abusive home and taken in by a foster-mom; from there she was adopted by my son and his then girlfriend, but when my son moved to LA and began full-time work, Maggie was left to languish for hours at the aprtment while he was at te office. So out of compassion he suggested I take her in; as I have always kinda wanted a dog, we agreed. I was raised with dogs in the family but haven't had one since I left home lo these almost fifty years past. She is part pointer, I think--she has that one-leg-up, nose-forward posture on reflex, and part Lab, I think from looking at her, with maybe a trace of Pit Bull or something.

Se is now the happy possessor of a shiny new California dog license tag.

She has a wicked keen nose and enjoys cataloguing all kinds of different spots where I detect nothing at all, but which are very distinct and significant to her doggy brain. It's interesting looking into the workings of a mind that has very little language but which is so much more sensitive to small movements, smells, and sometimes emotional velleities than I am. She's alovely companion. Yesterday she leatned to play catch. Today we buy a Frisbee and go to the wide open off-leash spaces at Dog Beach, where canines run free by the sea.