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Labor Day is a big deal in my country town. All the long lost children arrive at the town hall for a giant picnic and rodeo. This year my brother, Ben, and I even toured the town museum, which is really just a collection of court records and wedding invitations.

Among the pictures I found one of Human Rosie Finlinson and her husband:

Is it just me or does Dog Rosie Finlinson bear a strong resemblance?

They both look sweet and innocent in their pictures, which is so not the case. Human Rosie was playing nice for the camera, while Dog Rosie was drugged out of her mind post surgery. I wish Human Rosie were still alive so I could introduce them. She’d hate that I named a dog after her, but she’d secretly be pleased that she wasn’t the only wild animal in town.