Every Thanksgiving for the last I don’t know how long, my family—or part of it, at least—has celebrated Thanksgiving with our friends Carol and Jon, who live in Brooklyn, right in the shadow of the Manhattan Bridge. When we first knew them, they had a mellow rust-red pit bull named Ratchethead. After Ratchet moved on to the great dog bed in the sky, they adopted Ladybone, a pretty white pit with pale gray flecks on her sides and the approximate density of a neutron star.
Lady is well behaved, as dogs go—doesn’t bark, sits when you say "sit," never tries to grab food off the table—but she will also lean on you very hard if you sit on the couch—her couch, apparently—and she does drool, as shown here.
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