Dear Sheba, We hated to say goodbye to you this morning, but you were right: it was time for us to let you go. As I ran my hands over your soft fur and scratched your huge radar-dish ears (the same ones that caught my attention in the shelter all those 13 years ago),...
As I sit here, attempting to write, there is a puppy nibbling on the back of my sweater. He’s just tall enough to reach through the back of my desk chair and use his tiny (sharp) teeth to get my attention. It’s play time! Of course, it’s been play time all morning...
Meet Sheba: 80+ pounds of highly intelligent, squirrel-chasing, trash-can-raiding, hole-digging, command-ignoring dog. Last Friday, she decided to escape. She plotted for days. She examined the weakness in the system. She knew her closest ally. She seized the moment....
(This image is part of my 52 Weeks series I wrote about a few months ago) The littlest pair of feet belong to my four-year-old and they hit the floor with a thump at 6:30 a.m. (or earlier), heavy with the burden of thirty-seven stuffed animals. He runs down the...
