Lucky: a mysterious stranger who appeared just before dawn, and now acts as bodyguard to a very special poodle.
This is Lucky. Lucky, as some of you might remember, likes to bring things home. Sticks. Dog toys. Sawed off deer legs. The other day, he brought home the entire tail of a wild turkey. I should take a picture of that tail. It is really impressive. There’s still…stuff attached to the very tip of it. The joint. Lucky usually likes to chase rabbits, but I guess he, um, got lucky.
On another note, Sara Donati has an interesting essay on the contractual relationship between writers and readers, and what a good beginning has to do with all that.
Book is plodding along. Slowly. Kind of. Argh.
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