Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Slim and Franke
Sunday, July 30, 2006
CAN THIS BE?
Can this be the same scrawnie, walking rib cage, tick-infested puppy that moved in through a hail of pellets to become our beloved Slim? One of her parents has to be a BMC (Black Mouth Cur). She is such a good, good beautiful smart doggie!