All of them do. They're all puppies. Nothing else, just puppies.
I put them in a box, and took them upstairs.
Bimmie's working tonight. I'll go to bed before he comes home.
September 14, 1983 He raved all morning and tromped around. I said, Shut up or I'll leave and you'll have to eat capsules. He said, I could eat dog food! Then he wanted to see my diary. I said, No. But he yanked out all the drawers and found it.
I took the baby and went to Momma's.
It was suppertime when I came home. He was on the couch with Sup and Susta and the puppies.
He didn't act mad, just nasty-nice. So you came home, he said. I never realized how limited you were, Listie. Your diary's shown me a lot. Can you at least find homes for the puppies?
I said, I guess. I put the baby down. He hadn't thrown anything or burned my diary.
He said, Good, then. I've fixed supper.