I don’t know what happened to that dog, the beagle. It’s been 50 years, or so. I don’t even remember his name, though maybe it was Rocky, but I do remember mom’s shoes, dozens of them, mostly high heels.
Do women still wear high heels? Why?
The shoes, mom’s shoes all had bite marks, evidence that the beagle had chewed on them. The shoes were rendered less stylish. They were thrown out, perhaps the dog was too. Like I said, I don’t remember. I could ask my brother, he’d know. He knows all the dogs we ever owned and their stories, but I’m more comfortable not knowing. You can ask him if you want to know the rest of the story. But please, if you do, leave me out of it.