(Bob)cats and dogs

By the time I got to the house to see what a difference a year made, Arnold and Mr. B were already attacking our postage-stamp yard with a Bobcat, shovels and rakes.

They'd hauled off a big load of boulders from just under the surface (looked like a sandstone and coral mix) and were grading the leftovers down to a nice, gentle slope to the street. Arnold wants to get the picket fence started ASAP, and the holiday meant he got a few free days with the Bobcat.

As he was pulling a mound of dirt back with the blade, Brantley said, yet again, "You just gotta stop showing off like that." Both of them laughed.

They'd spent New Year's Eve at St. James, with Mr. B in the choir and Arnold in the pews, and then danced the year in at the Elks.

Arnold's dog, Candy, watched the goings-on with me from the porch -- and I told you she stayed close once she got to know you. As we held the porch down while the guys broke for lunch, I rediscovered what a great ice-breaker a dog is. One after another, passers-by paused to admire her cuteness.

But Key West has always been a great dog town. Just Saturday, dachshund owners had their annual just-for-the-heck-of-it parade down Duval. By the time I caught up with them, the pack stretched from Angela to Southard all the way to Fleming.

There must have been a hundred tails wagging, and more smiles on humans than you could count.