I'm the keymaster, are you the gatekeeper?

We're a nosy lot, we Germonski's. No wonder that Stella and Scup have "inherited" this trait from their parents. Is it because we're in theatre that we have to understand the stories of everyone around us? (or, if you're not careful, we'll make one up!) As I may have mentioned before, our house sits on a large property that also includes a couple renting the converted stable house in the back and a single guy in a studio behind our garage. However, our house is in the front and we share the driveway, so we observe the comings and goings of our neighbors, and in turn, they must (we can only assume) suffer through dealing with us when they go to work or come home. Because Stella and Scupper love love love to be outside, the neighbors are usually bombarded with our family when they come home from work. Scupper of course, barks at anything that moves (even himself) but luckily after 7 months, they all have started to realize the difference between the "who the hell are you?" bark and the "oh people are home! i know those people! i like these people! people are home!" bark.
                    Stella has become quite fascinated with the woman (of the couple) that lives in the back - Dominique, or "Mique" as Stella calls her. Stella jumps up and down for joy when her car pulls into the driveway and if we're outside, accosts her for a hug, a hello, anything she can get (while, of course Scupper barks until he is pet). Her husband Tom has, of late, enjoyed such status as well, when before he would drive their car and appear in the driveway, Stella would go, "Mique! oh, no. Tom" and walk away. (Poor Tom!) Lately, Stella has also been fascinated with the single guy Carl who does a lot of coming and going in his Jeep. "Truck. Car-aul. Loud truck."  A few weeks ago, Carl pet Scupper a nice goodbye and said he was headed for the weekend to Los Angeles to visit his girlfriend. Later that night, Stella asked where "Car-aul" was. "LA," I replied. "Oh... L ... A." Stella said back. And that was that. Flash forward to this past weekend when my mom was here (more on the wonderfulness of a two week Grammy visit in another post), and my mom heard Scupper barking outside. "Who is Scupper barking at?" Grammy asked. "Is Carl home?"

"No," Stella replied. "L.A."

No flies on this one, as my mom would say.