I've been saving this picture for the right moment and I think it is upon us: Harry celebrates an anniversary at a garden party. He is, after all, a party dog. (Not to play, of course, on the AKC parti-colored breeds; though he sports both brindle and turquoise, especially after Hillary’s inspirational work with watercolor markers.)
Anyway, here is Harry, in the lap of luxury, that of his natural human mother: Hillary, who raised him from a pup.
The white object standing on a pole in the background is a Manhattan bus stop sign procured after an East Side automobile accident. The gilt object of Harry’s desire (or at least mine) was a street find passed on from friends June & Edmund. Cig accent: True Green 100.