Sometimes our little, delicious baby stands at the back door, banging to be let out, while her big sisters play peek-a-boo from outside.
I imagine she daydreams of frolicking with them amongst the chicken, cats and Shelby without momma nearby to steer her clear of any dangers. Soon, Winnie. Soon.
But, for now, Winnie must be content laying in the bean bag Piper put her in for the 100th time, while playing the blues on the harmonica. What a life this baby leads.
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