DEAR ABBY: I need your help. Yesterday, I invited my sister-in-law over for dinner. She came with her dog.

When we were clearing the dishes off the table, she took a plate with some leftovers, set it on the floor, and let her dog clean the plate. I was appalled!

This was the second time she has done this. I said nothing because there were other guests and I didn't want to embarrass her.

When we had pets, they had their own dishes.

I hate going to her house for dinner because I know that every dish and bowl has been licked by her dog. She has no dishwasher. How would your readers react?

She reads your column, and I am hoping she will realize how offensive this is to some people. -- NAME WITHHELD

DEAR NAME WITHHELD: Have I got an idea for an ideal house gift for you to give your sister-in-law!

Buy a couple of dog dishes especially for her dog. You can order some with the dog's name on them. (The dog can't read -- but your sister-in-law can.)

DEAR ABBY: Thank you for many years of sensible, down-to-earth answers to problems that may or may not have entered my life -- they were enlightening anyway. Now for my silly problem. My husband and I (70ish) recently took a trip in our RV and stopped at a favorite restaurant in Pennsylvania that serves "family style." In other words, platters of food are on the table for all to share.

Upon leaving, I visited the ladies room, and since the woman attendant was bustling around the lavatories, I skipped washing my hands, intending to do so in the RV. I was shocked when the attendant stopped me and asked if I was entering the dining room. I said, "No, I'm leaving." It was very embarrassing, to say the least. I've heard of "potty parity" -- what is this? "Potty police"? Is this custom prevalent? -- RED-FACED IN CONNECTICUT

DEAR RED-FACED: I've never heard of it, but the attendant must be a mother. And once a mother, always a mother. Old habits die hard.

DEAR ABBY: I'm only 13, but I really need your help. Recently, the mother of one of my friends was strangled in her home. She is a classmate of mine and I'll have to talk to her because the thought of ignoring it sounds unbelievably rude. The problem is, I have no idea what to say!

I don't want to hurt her. What should I say? Or would it be better to say nothing at all? -- LOST FOR WORDS IN TENNESSEE

DEAR LOST: Say, "I'm sorry about your mom ..."

People are eating them up! For Abby's favorite recipes, send a long, business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Cookbooklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: I am a 14-year-old girl who often reads your column. I was wondering how I could get -- or make -- a legal will. I have few valuables, so it's mostly personal stuff that I want given to certain people.

I don't want my parents to know. Please send me some information on this. Thank you. -- NO NAME, PLEASE

DEAR NO NAME: It is rather unusual for a 14-year-old to inquire about how to make a legal will. I am concerned about why a person so young would want this information.

Regardless of how strict your parents may seem to be, in times of serious trouble they are your best friends. However, since you do not want your parents to know, please talk to your school counselor. And please don't be afraid to tell the counselor what it is that troubles you. Only if you discuss your problems can you get the help you deserve.

Please talk to the counselor immediately, and then write again and let me know how you are. I care.

DEAR ABBY: Can you stand one more story about a phony money-making scheme?

My mother, a widow who lives on her Social Security, received a telephone call advising her that she had won three prizes -- an automobile, $10,000 in diamonds, and her choice of a vacation in Hawaii, California or Florida! Well, Mama thought she had died and gone to heaven!

The man on the phone told her that all she had to do was let them send her their "products" to try; the products were free, but she had to pay for shipping, handling and insurance, which was "only $699.99."

Then the caller asked Mother if she had either MasterCard or Visa. She said she had MasterCard. So she was asked to give him her card number. She became suspicious and hung up! The man called her back saying, "We must have been disconnected." Then Mother said, "I'm sorry, I was advised never to give my credit card number to anyone on the telephone." She then hung up and immediately called the Better Business Bureau to report this company. She was thanked, and then told that they already had the name of this company on file!

Abby, please run this in your column. There are still plenty of people who might fall for this kind of scam. -- NO FOOL IN PHOENIX

DEAR NO FOOL: You would be amazed to learn how many people continue to fall for this kind of scam. I have warned my readers never to give their credit card numbers on the telephone. Thanks for the reminder.

DEAR ABBY: I appreciated your column on "faking it" -- especially the letter from "Deserves an Academy Award" who wrote: "Of course I fake it. All women do. I adore my husband, but he couldn't find my erogenous zone with a road map."

Well, we have been happily married for 51 years, and my husband did not need a road map to find my erogenous zone. I gave him directions. -- HAPPY IN OHIO

Everything you'll need to know about planning a wedding can be found in Abby's booklet, "How to Have a Lovely Wedding." To order, send a long, business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Wedding Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: You were right in your advice to "No Guts," who had given his fiancee a three-carat cubic zirconia. (You told him to find the guts because it would be better if she got the news from him.) I only wish he had written his letter a year ago. Here is the female point of view:

My fiance gave me a two-carat "diamond," saying he had inherited it from his grandfather. He said the jeweler that mounted it had told him its value was "between $8,000 and $10,000 dollars." When I asked if he'd ever had it appraised or insured, he said he hadn't -- because he didn't want to pay an inheritance tax. His mother didn't even know he had it, he said, and I could never tell her because it would cause a family feud!

Of course, being in love and blinded by this gorgeous "rock," I fell for the whole story, and proudly showed it off at work and to friends and family. Imagine my embarrassment (yes, after the wedding!) when I took it to a jeweler to have it appraised, and he told me it was not a diamond!

When I confronted my husband, he gave me another string of lies, saying that either one of his previous roommates had found the ring in the apartment and replaced the stone with a fake, or that when he took it to the jeweler for engraving, the jeweler must have switched the stones. Then he said that he knew when he said "I do" that it wasn't a diamond, but planned to replace it (without my knowledge) on our first anniversary.

Needless to say, eight months before our first anniversary, I divorced this con artist.

I learned my lesson the hard way -- and my sympathies go out to his next victim. "No Guts" should heed your sound advice, Abby, but I would also advise women to be wary of and question any diamond that is over one-half carat if it has no papers. -- E.Z. DECEIVEE

DEAR DECEIVEE: It's discouraging to contemplate a world where a bride-to-be must see in black and white that her fiance is on the up and up. Not all that glitters is gold, nor is all that sparkles a genuine diamond.

DEAR ABBY: A few months back I sent for your booklet on "How to Be Popular." It did me so much good, I'm a different person. I read it several times, and then passed it on to family and friends. It may never get back to me, so will you please send me another copy -- along with "How to Write Letters for All Occasions" and "How to Have a Lovely Wedding"?

I read your column every day -- and it makes such good sense. God bless you. -- HELEN LEWIS, OOLOGAH, OKLA.

DEAR ABBY: Do you happen to know George Bernard Shaw's very witty definition of love? -- JAMES K. IN MIAMI

DEAR JAMES: Yes. "Love is a gross exaggeration of the difference between one person and everybody else."

"How to Be Popular" is an excellent guide to becoming a better conversationalist and a more attractive person. To order, send a long, business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Popularity Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054. (Postage is included.)