This book is dedicated to my family.

One warm spring evening, way out in the country, there was a small girl sitting under a tree.
On her lap lay a large book, and by her side lay her old basset hound Ollie. The little girl loved that tree, and often sat there for many hours a day, reading, daydreaming, and playing with Ollie.
That evening she had been there reading non-stop, only pausing a moment to giggle because Ollie had barked at a single dogwood petal that had landed on his nose.
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This book is dedicated to my family.

One warm spring evening, way out in the country, there was a small girl sitting under a tree.
On her lap lay a large book, and by her side lay her old basset hound Ollie. The little girl loved that tree, and often sat there for many hours a day, reading, daydreaming, and playing with Ollie.
That evening she had been there reading non-stop, only pausing a moment to giggle because Ollie had barked at a single dogwood petal that had landed on his nose.
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