Remembering Elor Osborn

In preparation for tying a red bow around its cotton-stuffed girth, I polished up the Indian elephant Miss Osborn had sent me for Christmas years ago, when I was in grad school.  Elor Osborn--may her name be revered--taught Latin at Waco High, my alma mater. She required  a lot out of me, more than I realized I could do.  She also put up with a lot of nonsense from me, which is part and parcel of the Fiorella package.  And when I made Phi Beta Kappa at UT, she paid for my pin.

I think Miss Osborn would be happy with how I turned out.  When I die, I want that elephant to go with me as grave goods.

Surgeon at Work

Shh! Don't break Fio's concentration. Inspired by the much-publicized prosthesis for Midnight, a miniature horse, she's working on a prosthesis for an even smaller animal--an elephant.

Fio's elephant is three inches tall and carved from a very hard wood. Wendy Dog knocked it off the window sill a couple of days ago, and its passenger-side back leg hasn't been seen since. (Wendy probably ate it.)

Fio considered paper mache or pine for the repair job, but finally settled on art clay. It will shape to the wood, adhere, and harden, but can be chipped away if the missing limb is ever recovered.

Ah, these advances in medical science. Fio is only too happy to contribute her minuscule share.