Now, one thing that can be said about my dear mother is that she's DEFINITELY an animal lover. Throughout her life, she's been bringing home stray cats and dogs, (most of which, to this day, others in her life have butted head with her over.)
While I never agreed with her 'life's mission' to be that 'crazy cat and dog lady,' (she isn't, by the way...) one story in particular has always been one of my favorites regarding her prized pets.
When she was still in high school, in the late-60s, (No, she was NOT a flower child - to this day, she wouldn't be caught dead wearing a tie-dye poncho) on Saturdays, she'd fix her and her parents a pancake breakfast, and would later fry the left over batter and give it to her dog, Sebastian (which, from what I've heard, was anything BUT a shrimp... if any of you have ever watched Disney's version of 'The Little Mermaid', you'll get that, albeit TERRIBLE joke with little problem.) Which, if I recall right, was half-wolf. (I guess Papa Wolf must have jus