conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Dean, Tori, amp with the genre: Biographies & Memoirs, Arts & Literature?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Uncharted TerriTori'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Uncharted TerriTori
  On the way home from my mother's Christmas party I was wired, but not from sugar. I was happy inside. As Dean and I went over the little details of the party, I said, "Do you hear the way I'm blabbering? I'm excited."
  In the past Dean had been dismissive of my mother. He said, "If she's not worthy, cut her out. When do you stop getting hurt?" But from the moment we got the invitation to the Christmas party, he was with me. He went into it open-minded and supportive (except for when he pulled his bowling alley disappearing act). I was impressed.
  Dean lost his father, first to alcohol, then to death. When he divorced Mary Jo, he lost his father-in-law, "Mr. E," too. Dean and Mr. E had a nice relationship. They played golf together. I knew Dean missed that. Now he made a confession. He said, "I know this is premature, but if this all works out and we have a relationship with your mother, is it wrong that down the road I see having a relationship with her boyfriend like the one Mr. E and I had? Maybe he and I could play golf together. Maybe he and your mother would come and watch me ride my motorcycle." Roger, my mom's boyfriend, was really nice. He'd been great with the kids. True, Dean was jumping the gun. I didn't know what kind of mom my mother was going to be, much less how her boyfriend would be as a father, but Dean's fantasy swept me up immediately. Suddenly I was entertaining a double date fantasy—the four of us having dinner together. But what was wrong with that? Who's to say my mother didn't sit at home wanting the same thing? Maybe someday soon she would ride the teacups in Disneyland with Liam and Stella the way she used to with me and Randy.
  There were moments, memories, traditions from my childhood that I remembered fondly. I went through a phase of having only bad recollections, but as the kids got older, going to school, having birthdays, celebrating holidays, living life with us, I started remembering the good times I had with my family. The traditions I shared with my mother came back to me. I started bringing them to the world I created for my children. My mother's hand was in the crafts, the baking, the parties that I loved doing with and for my children.
  Was the person I remembered with love still there? I knew I'd seen her when my mother collected the broken Christmas balls. She was a mommy again.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The shelter woman gave me a little Christmas hat for him. I put it on his head; we put his leash on and led him to the car. He was mellow. He just went with the flow.
  On our way home I tweeted a picture of Cane, asking my followers for name suggestions. Someone suggested Murray. Dean and I looked at each other and said, "That's it!" He was Murray Cane McDermott.
  Liam has never shown much interest in our dogs. But when we came in the front door and said, "Liam, Liam! Come meet your new dog!" he ran over and said, "My dog! That's my dog." Liam fed Murray treats. Murray nuzzled him. It was a match. Dean said, "Murray's the perfect dog. I'm going to get a sidecar for Murray. He'll wear a helmet and ride next to me when I bike." My policy was no children or dogs allowed on motorcycles, surprise, surprise, but I was in too good a mood to protest.
  That night was Christmas Eve. Jenny and her family came over for dinner. I made stew (No shepherd's pie! Never again!) and Murray helped out by lying below, waiting for droppings. There were no presents under the tree yet—I was waiting for the kids to go to sleep—just a large white tree skirt made of shaggy faux fur. Murray, who had never had a house to call his own, made his way over to the tree and lay down under it as if he'd been part of the family for years. Liam curled up next to him. A dog and his boy, side by side under the Christmas tree. It was a Norman Rockwell moment.
  The next morning—the day after Christmas—Liam came running up to us saying, "What's wrong with my dog?" We followed him into the kitchen to Murray's carrier, where he lay half in, half out. He raised his head slowly, with great effort. He was noticeably sick. Then he threw up.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Derick... For loving my family and being the constant optimist. Your positive energy is infectious.
  Isabel... For always looking out for me and my family. For loving us and knowing me so well. You have been my constant through all these years. And for loving the doggies so much.
  Paola... You inspire me as a mom and as a woman. Your work ethic is tireless and your love for our kids is undeniable. We are blessed to have you as part of our family.
  Cheyenne... You are such a positive in my life and was always there to listen when I couldn't find answers. Thank you.
  My Twitter followers... For always believing in me and supporting me and for giving me a family to reach out to day or night.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Derick... For loving my family and being the constant optimist. Your positive energy is infectious.
  Isabel... For always looking out for me and my family. For loving us and knowing me so well. You have been my constant through all these years. And for loving the doggies so much.
  Paola... You inspire me as a mom and as a woman. Your work ethic is tireless and your love for our kids is undeniable. We are blessed to have you as part of our family.
  Cheyenne... You are such a positive in my life and was always there to listen when I couldn't find answers. Thank you.
  My Twitter followers...