Below The Fold

Amy was in tears all morning. To be honest, I was fighting them back on occasion myself. So when she asked me if she should keep her tee time with Kathy and Gina, I said yes. She needed to try and get her mind off of the helplessness for a little bit. Get some sun and regroup.
Turns out, Amy’s not the only female golf lover in the house.
Yep. There was Lulu. On the third hole. Running all over the golf course, annoying golfers, chasing balls and living it up—“large,” as they might say in the hip hop vernacular.
She was tired, thirsty and hungry, but otherwise, she seemed none the worse for wear. She’s sleeping next to me as I write this, snoring softly and heaving a big puppy sigh every once in a while. Save for the joy in Amy’s voice when she called me and said, “I found her!” it’s the greatest sound ever.
Thanks for everyone’s well-wishes and efforts.
I’m getting a drink.