The last time we saw Ruby Brown was Tuesday morning. We have a very sad little girl now. Ironically, as much as we joked about tying bacon around her neck and throwing her to the coyotes, Ruby had (has?) become a pretty decent pet. We finally got her skin condition under control, thanks to Seamus' dog food which cost $80 a bag. She stopped pooping in the laundry basket because we started to let her go outside a bit. She also let Olivia push her around in her dolly stroller. Jack doesn't know yet--he's in Seattle at his buddy Dylan's this week. Olivia has thoroughly searched the house daily, and she makes me take her through the woods to hunt for her. The other two kids aren't really concerned. Like me, they aren't huge animal lovers, although Grace did enjoy putting necklaces on Ruby (is it any wonder the poor animal disappeared?). If not for Olivia, I am pretty sure they never would have noticed Ruby was even gone. Last night we watched a sweet movie called "Duma" about a boy in S. Africa who raises a Cheetah but takes it back to the wild, where it finds a mate and lives happily on the Savannah. "That must be what happened to Ruby! She must have found a friend," I say, glancing at Olivia. That's my story and I'm sticking to it, anyway.