The dog ate my boot. Understand that it is the nature of many, if not most, dogs to chew things. Sometimes they chew the things we human companions give them to chew. Rawhide bones. Squeaky plastic toys. Greenies for good breath. But often dogs also chew the things we humans absentmindedly leave lying around: Treasured … Continue reading The story of everything.
It was Ella, and not I, who first fell in love with Bernard. It happened this way: We were walking along the snowy trail next to the Snake River, in January, a few months after we met. Bernard was throwing sticks for Ella to retrieve. She was a puppy, full of energy and mischief. She … Continue reading Of dogs and men.
The cat lives upstairs, in a three-compartment suite comprised of two bedrooms and a bathroom. The bedrooms each have human-sized beds, and the bathroom has two small cat-sized beds that formerly belonged to Build-a-Bear creations and now belong to the cat. All three rooms have sunny windows and secret hiding places and the comings-and-goings of … Continue reading A room with a view.
Perhaps to keep us from falling into the abyss that is pre-Christmas commercial madness, here is a story about Thanksgiving that includes a dog, a rat and the frivolity of Starbucks. You should know up front that the dog dies and the rat escapes, but it's really not a sad story, I promise. In my … Continue reading A dog, a rat, and Thanksgiving.
Thirteen years ago, when my husband and I moved to Memphis, we spent much of our leisure time walking the dogs through Shelby Farms Park, the largest urban park in the U.S. We would wake on Saturdays and Sundays, load the dogs in Bernard's ancient 4Runner, and head east, where we wandered for several hours … Continue reading A walk in the park.
