For some time, I had been suggesting that a wagon might make Kiki's life more interesting. Come on, he was trapped all day at home and not able to walk more that 30 or 40 feet. The question was: Would he be freaked out? As it happened, after an initial hesitation, KiKi found his release. Now he was able to go to the park again, pick up some old scents, and get some sun. I have not seen him so happy in years. True, I watched him walk around in circles, but thought: How many times hare you done that at Twist? Now everyone I know is expecting me to draft some sort of similar travel for them. The Baroness needs a wagon with a purchased-titled ducal crest and Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish needs one with enough room for her bottles of liquor, suitable stashes for her illegal ingestive items, and Turkish curtains to hide the netherworld she brings home. However, in times like this, I might have found a cottage industry.

The loyal Lucy escorts KiKi and is by his side at every moment. Pembroke Welsh Corgies are known for their devotion. I could easily see the glee in KiKi's eyes as other dogs admired his imperial carriage. He has suddenly breathed new life and now the prospect of his nineteenth birthday party (three weeks from now) doesn't seem all that much of a wish.