Here’s a good one from early 2013. But don’t take my word for it. See for yourself and let me know if you agree!
I learned recently that there is such a thing as love at first sight.
I can’t speak for Skip though. For him, I might have been just a welcomed relief to being alone. He may have simply wanted someone to hold, kiss and comfort him. Regardless, I gladly accommodated.
In case you’re wondering, Skip is the latest addition to my animal family. He’s a one-year-old Corgi/Spaniel mix and I smile just looking at him.
Originally posted in July, 2013
I went to church on Sunday.
Now don’t get me wrong. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but to those who know me, it’s practically a miracle. You see, I haven’t been to the Big House in a couple years.I used to be one of those holiday church-goers. You know the type; we attend for Christmas and Easter. Then it got to where I only appeared for weddings and funerals. But I’m relatively certain last Sunday wasn’t a holy holiday and nobody I know died or got hitched. Continue reading
I have two words for you: LAKE TAHOE. That means I didn’t get any writing done this week. But here’s a post from 2012 that you won’t remember because, well, it was 6 years ago! Happy reading…
There are few things of which I’ve been certain. I’m the queen of indecisiveness. Mexican or Italian for dinner? Hmm…maybe Italian? Wear the beige or blue skirt? I guess the beige? What color should we paint the house? Don’t even go there.
In fact, one decision that actually came easy for me was to adopt our buff-colored Cocker Spaniel, Tequila. I suppose, to be truthful, it wasn’t actually my decision. Knowing my history and the fact that I would waver between dogs for days, my husband picked her and I nodded in agreement and relief. Good choice, Jim.
We had good intentions from the get-go and decided not to feed her fattening table scraps. We bought the best dog food we could find and congratulated ourselves on not giving in to those pleading brown eyes under the dinner table.
I just watched the movie Marley and Me with my fat cat, Jack. Yes, Jack watches TV. He’s a very observant guy. But if you haven’t seen the movie, I’m about to ruin it for you so you should probably skip the next paragraph.
Marley and Me is a comedy about a dog but also a tear-jerker because Marley dies, as dogs will do. I’d already seen the movie but I still cried like a baby. I’m talking crocodile tears that spilled from my eyes, missed my cheeks entirely, then landed on Jack, who lounged on my lap. Pathetic? Yeah, I’d say so.
Now that you Marley and Me virgins are back with us, let’s continue.. Continue reading
So here’s the situation. It’s 8:00 p.m. on Saturday night. I just spent the day cleaning my garage. Loads of fun. I’m grimy, dusty and full of chili because after I spent the day cleaning my garage I made a pot of veggie chili. Then I made macaroni noodles to put the chili on because that’s how my ex’s family did it in Kansas City. So since 1982, when we married, that’s how I’ve eaten it and now I can’t eat naked chili.
Anyway, now I’m stuffed. I also fed my animal crew and my foster cat, all of whom I assume are stuffed as well. My foster cat is nameless because I don’t permanently name them until I know they’ll be adoptable. I foster feral kittens and semi-feral cats. For some reason it’s harder for me to have to relocate them to outdoor homes (if they’re too feral to be adopted) after I’ve named them. Weird, huh?
So when I enter the room in which I’m housing a big orange tabby female, I say ‘Hey Boo Boo.” No reaction. Sometimes I say, “Hey Monkey.” But again, no response. I’ll try on a bunch of names during the time I’m fostering but once I realize that cat or kitten will be adoptable, a name will suddenly hit me and that’s the one that sticks.