So Long, Skip

It was 9:30 p.m. on July 9, 2012. I was at Marin Humane, about to process a feral cat I trapped, when at the same time, an officer was carrying in an 18-month-old frightened fawn with white corgi mix. I immediately stopped and yelled, “Wait! Who is that?” And that, my friends, is how I met my dog, Skip.

Now don’t get me wrong; I knew the moment I saw Skip, he was meant to be mine; he simply had to be. Thus began our wonderful 13-year relationship. If you read my posts, you’re aware I’ve had a few pets in my day, but there was something unique about this one. Maybe it was those big brown eyes and his laid-back demeanor. He was a go-with-the-flow type; in other words, perfect for me.

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It’s the Little Things

The older I get, the more I treasure the little things that, in my youth, I wouldn’t have given a second thought. Now don’t get me wrong; If you’re considered young and are reading this, you likely have no idea what I’m talking about. But if you ask me, enjoying the little things is one of the few perks of aging.

Now that I’m 70, I find I don’t sweat the small stuff like I did in my youth, aka, back when I had collagen and nary a gray hair. I barely recognize myself today from when I was 40, and not strictly by looks, although there’s that too.

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The Death of Me

Hard to believe I wrote this in 2013, but there you go. Skip and Oliver are still with me, along with eight other pets who have also almost caused my death at one time or another.

I adore my pets, but I have little doubt they’re going to be the death of me.

Skip, Nellie & Callie
Skip, Nellie and Callie
Oliver
Oliver

You see, they’re determined to trip and kill me. You wouldn’t think animals would have a sinister side to them, would you? Well, I’m beginning to wonder. It can’t be a coincidence that it keeps happening, can it?

If you have animals, you know what I’m talking about. In my pets’ attempt to either get my attention, race me wherever I’m headed, or stick to me like glue because they adore me (yeah, right), I rarely make it through a day without avoiding a face-plant or near-death stumble.

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No Time For Boredom

Here’s a post from June, 2017…enjoy!

According to the Census Bureau, I live alone. I, however, beg to differ. Yeah, I’m currently the only 2-legged being in my household but by no means do I live alone. Not if you count 4 dogs, 4 cats and an array of foster kittens. But furry things don’t count with census takers.

Census taker

As you know, I frequently blog about my animals. After all, they give me lots to write about. One of the 8 often does something either ridiculously adorable or exceedingly frustrating…it’s a continual cycle of entertainment.

Consequently, I am never bored. Who has time for that? I’d need to pencil it into my schedule: Sunday, August 6, noon-1:00: BE BORED. I must admit it might be nice to have that luxury. When I’m not out wrangling kitties or on the tennis court, I’m at home attempting to work through my never ending honey-do list. And I’m the honey that do.

Honey do list

Now don’t get me wrong; I hire help whenever I can’t figure something out, which is rather often. And my neighbor Paul, Mr. Handyman, is always lending a hand or a tool. And lucky for me he has every tool ever invented. Continue reading