I live in a pink truck at the edge of the sky.
When you have a dog, you get to participate in another creature’s being, a creature who wants to be with you, a human being.
When I take Josie to the dog park she likes to find a puppy, preferably a rare breed like a Shiba Inu or a New Guinea Singing Dog and roll it down the hill.
Probably my tenth trip to the front window in an hour. I’m looking at the yard, cellphone in hand, getting footage of my neighbor’s German Shepherd. He crosses the street, trots up … Continue reading
reminds our rescued dog that once
she made her way on ditch water,
careless mice, and spilled trash
Some of our canine friends – particularly those dogs who have only known life with their owners since the pandemic began – are now experiencing some difficulties adapting to this new lifestyle. So, any tool which can provide stimulation and entertainment can be helpful to minimise their distress and keep them happy and healthy.
Too late, I spotted Baby Jesus’ feet sticking out of Punkin’s mouth – snatched from the tabletop nativity scene. I flew across the room to rescue the Prince of Peace. Punkin took a big gulp, and Jesus disappeared down his gullet.
A celebration of old dogs, from the people who love them most.
A few days later, I came out to my husband. Our marriage exploded into shards in a matter of minutes.
These are the first days of fall. The wind
at evening smells of roads still to be traveled,
while the sound of leaves blowing across the lawns
is like an unsettled feeling in the blood,
the desire to get in a car and just keep driving.