The third adult in our family of five kids and two parents was our German shepherd, Rain. I was a newborn when my father brought him home as a puppy tucked in his work coat pocket.

Mother named him Rain for Mt. Rainier, which was visible from the hill above our house in Washington. In the beginning, Rain and I were roommates in my baby crib. He could escape through the bars to visit with the rest of the family at will, whereas I often found myself locked up in my jail waiting for a lovely pair of hands to pick me up and kiss me. I received more face washings and kisses from Rain throughout my baby years than from anyone else. Early on I learned to detect German shepherd breath, from kitty breath, from human family breath.