July 7, 1983 He hasn't. Bimmie's biting his fingernails. He'd bite harder if he knew what happened today.
I thought Susta was asleep when I went to hang diapers. I had my arms clear full. When I opened the door, Susta shot past me. I yelled at her, but she went flying down the street, and I saw that dog next door take off behind her. I thought first thing, It's Bimmie's fault for not buying a dryer.
I hung the clothes fast. After all, nothing could happen in such a short time. Then I started up the street calling, Here Susta! But the baby was alone, I had to hurry home.
She came back in half an hour. I didn't tell Bimmie yet.
July 8, 1983 I didn't tell him, still. He was mad because he had to pay to get Sup out of the pound. Bimmie salved his ears, they were torn, and put them in the basement. He said, Now!
July 15, 1983 Bimmie says to write every day. It's dull, them in the basement. They come up tomorrow.
July 23, 1983 Susta acts funnier than ever. She rubs my legs when I'm cooking. She keeps wetting her paws and rubbing her face.