My pal Hal’s wife, Kate, was once a flight attendant. On one of her bicoastal flights, Lassie was seated in first-class.
What an indelible image that must be.
Were Lassie’s paws crossed while perhaps perusing the Daily Racing Form? Did she give a little yelp...oh, it’s that awful dog track business again.
Note to self…send check, ASAP to Help the Greyhound Fund. I really should do more. Call Trigger and Ed, Morris and that annoying basset hound who thinks she’s Lana Turner. Oh God, what’s her name? Cleo... ugh...to stage a benefit.
Call manager, ASAP… when I get home.
Did she linger in the ladies room powdering her wet nose?
Was she drinking water…Perier of course…from a champagne flute instead of a bowl? Or maybe Kate mixed her a Rin Tin Tin, the dog’s version of a Shirley Temple.
Apparently, due to all those stunts Lassie insisted on doing herself, she didn’t drink. At least that’s what they said in TV Guide.
When she disembarked, did she give Kate her autograph?
Thanks for everything…especially that nice, cozy blanket. It was all, such a big treat. Doggonit…I’m afraid I gave out my last 8 by 10 glossy…but if you tell me where, I’ll be happy to mail you one.
Love and kisses,