Sometimes Grandpa's words get mixed up. Once at the playground, Grandpa yells, “Dog rog me!”  Mama shakes her head; she doesn’t know what Grandpa was saying. Kids on swings and their parents on benches stare at us, but Grandpa keeps yelling, and points to some bushes.

Finally, a dog’s head pokes out. It’s our neighbor’s dog, Ruffles!  He jumps on Grandpa’s lap. “Good dog, home. Good dog, home,” says Grandpa.