Rodent disposal is a man’s job. Call me sexist, if you will, but I will move out of my house before I scoop up and throw away a dead thing with a long icky tail. When the husband is out-of-town, the job is passed along to the son. Never mind that it was 2:30 in the …
When Jack and I gallivant around the neighborhood, we make the most of every sight, sound, and odor. The place we live can be a delight if only we notice. Jack’s favorite scent is poop, and mine is the neighbor’s orange tree; the blossoms remind me of the rotten orange fights I had with my brothers …
Three things about our walk today: a proverb, a mystery, and a memory. First, the proverb. As we approach a greenbelt in the neighborhood, Jack stops and sniffs. It is a place where we regularly see a cat. He sniffs, and runs, and frightens, but he never gets close enough to catch that darn cat. …
The mat at the front door says it all. As much as we like people and enjoy visitors to our home, the front door mat does not say “welcome”. Instead, it is small brown rectangle with these ominous words: “‘Don’t Make Me Come Out there.’ The Dog” If anyone, and I mean anyone, dares approach our …
His eyelids are heavy, his ears droopy. He looks forlorn. Oh, why won’t these people go to bed? Why must a dog keep guard over this family of five? I want to sleep. He lies on a blanket on the couch and waits patiently for each of us, in turn, to hit the hay. He must ensure …
He knows words. He really does. The word “treat” just brings a perking up of the ears. He goes through the motions of sitting, trying to shake with anything close by, and lying down, waiting for the aforementioned treat to appear. He’ll leave it sitting next to his nose if he’s told to, and then …