~ Growing Without Roots ~

My childhood was amazing and unique. In fact, it ruined my life in many ways. I remember when I was seven, listening to the radio in my parents' room in Australia, eyes closed, lying on the rug with my head on a pillow, the sound of the branches and leaves blowing in the wind outside. I wondered, is this a dream and I am still in Australia? Will I wake up and be able to do it all differently? Or is this my life and my memories will always be an albatross around my neck?

Hagar the Horrible

Hagar was actually not horrible at all. He was a cream brindle Afghan Hound. I had owned his mother, Ch. Heatherwood Andrami of Tarot, many years before. When I had to give Joplin up in the 1980s, her new owner, Chris, promised that someday she would give me one of Joppy's puppies.

That happened when I lived in Denver. Chris sent me a little cream brindle male that she called "Scruffy". I changed his name right away and called him Hagar. He was actually a very well behaved puppy. But in my cartoons, he was a devil.

Unfortunately, Hagar had a genetic problem with his Achilles tendons being shortened. Because of this, he was unsound and had a lot of issues with his gait. Chris wanted him back, and although I hated to let him go, because it affected her bloodline, he went back to Connecticut. Chris traced the defect back to a dog a couple of generations removed, but it the end of her line/

Hagar's real name was Tarot Tarfu of Tanqueray.