Tag: dogs

Saturday summary


An attempt to order new glasses didn’t work earlier this week (though I did pick up other stuff I needed or wanted), but today, I had greater success! Hopefully will have new glasses in about a week, and the headaches I get after I read and edit on or off the computer will go away. I’ve downloaded a couple of ebooks I’m looking forward to reading at some point.

It’s weird to realize I haven’t worn eye makeup since the beginning of June. I haven’t driven at night in more months than I can remember. I haven’t driven myself in any direction too far from our neighborhood since surgery, probably a half-dozen times. Debby doesn’t drive, so Tom and Tim have picked up slack, and Tim has been without a car twice during that time.


Requires a lot of logistics, especially since all the dogs except Pixie have needed varying degrees of vet care (even if just annual checkups) or grooming services. And Debby, Tom, and I have all had routine doctor appointments in addition to all my eye appointments.

Finished editing and printing the third book in the saga, and am well along in the same process for the fourth. While all that’s happening, my brain is busy looking forward to writing the seventh book.

Eva says your glasses size can match your courage or your face. Guess which she chose…

Hump Day

I’ve got two of the manuscripts fully revised and printed! Started reading the third this evening.


Pixie would like you to know that she’s serious about her approval of the arts. She has a dad, uncles and aunts, and friends who are creatives and work in the arts. If she were a writer or an actor (and we don’t know that she’s not an actor, really), I suspect she wouldn’t cross current picket lines. Not even for a carrot, because if I recall correctly, her dad doesn’t let her eat carrots. Maybe something to do with an incident many years ago.

I’m in the creative arts, and I’m writing about people who are in the creative and performing arts. And I struggle with what I’m currently writing because when I’m down, the jerk voice in my brain says, Some critics would say these stories center privileged white people who have liberal guilt. And there’s another voice inside to defend what I’m writing: You’re attempting to create a diverse world of decent people through the stories of their lives. I’m doing it because it’s what I love with zero expectation of what an audience for it would look like or think like or even if one exists.

Creatives are easily dismissed with the assertion that what they do isn’t “important.” I think of all the people I know who are creative, some who don’t even call themselves that, and the happiness and inspiration they give others, which is immeasurable. So I really appreciated this statement from Brooke Ishibashi dropped by fellow writer Jeffrey Ricker on his socials yesterday.

Even if someone is not involved in the commerce of creativity, imagine how much money people who, for example, sew/knit/crochet/needlepoint, craft, scrapbook, jewelry make, or build and carve things contribute to the economy with their purchasing power.

That’s my middle-of-the week perspective.

Doggy snaps

One of the reasons Lynne came to visit Houndstooth Hall recently was because it was the first part of more traveling, and when she travels, we often get to keep Minute. During that time, Pepper needed a place to stay for only one night, so it was slumber party time!


Photo by Tom.


Photo by Rhonda.


Photo by Tom.


Photo by Rhonda.

Apparently, they take “slumber” seriously. No time for prank calling, having pillow fights, coloring, painting each other’s nails, listening to their favorite records, running through the sprinkler, or watching Disney movies. Good thing we’ve got lots of beds all over the house.

Happy Father’s Day!

Maybe you had one by birth or by nurture as a stepdad, surrogate dad, adopted dad, mentor dad, dad-in-law, or a friend’s dad, today I celebrate those you’ve loved who’ve loved you. A few photos to recognize this day.


An early photo of Daddy and me.


Tom was one month old in this photo of his dad and him.

Happy anniversary today to Tom! He’s been the best dog dad through thirty-five years to:


Eva, Delta, Jack, and Anime.


Guinness and Margot.


Stevie and Pete.

changing my mind

I wrote a long post about the Neverending Saga and then I reminded myself no one cares and I deleted it. What might you care about? A dog? One of them ate part of my leather purse. I need a new purse now. There’s no way to know which dog, so I’m not blaming this one. This is just a recent photo of Jack in which he seemed to be deep in thought. It was taken before the Incident of the Purse.

Here’s the playlist for what I’ve listened to during writing sessions on Thurs/Fri/today.

Sinéad O’Connor: “I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got” and “Am I Not Your Girl?”; The Paris Sisters, “I Love How You Love Me Plus 30 More Hits”; Pancho’s Lament: Self-Titled, “Leaving Town Alive,” and “3 Sides To Every Story.”

And if you look at the below meme-ish things and wonder why I’m putting them here, I’m wondering who’s benefitting from all the hate being stirred up toward certain groups of people.
Continue reading “changing my mind”

Wednesday’s Jack is full of woe

Little Jack is still not fully recovered. Sometimes he’ll eat; sometimes not. After visiting his vet, some of his liver numbers aren’t what they should be, so he’ll be getting a supplement for a few weeks before his next checkup.

Of course, you never know when an animal will have a health emergency, and before Jack’s, we scheduled Keith our contractor to do a few jobs around Houndstooth Hall. He’s been in and out since… last Friday? All the days run together. Which meant Jack and all the dogs have been spending their days with Aunt Debby, because doors stay open, some dogs aren’t friendly to strangers (though… Keith hardly qualifies, since he’s been coming here since 2015 taking good care of us, the Hall, Fox Den, and Fairy Cottage, when we first moved in, especially after the Harvey flood, and for our two frozen pipe events). Part of Jack’s woeful attitude is having his routines disrupted, even though he could not be in more indulgent, loving hands than Debby’s.

Among things we had done, we had new floor tile and a new shower door installed in the master bath. Keith thinks the tile was original from 1960, and through the decades, someone regrouted it, not very well, and no matter how how much I cleaned it, or what cleansers I used, I could never make it look good, especially after that drain backed up during the flood. The shower door, too, had accumulated years of staining.

It’s nothing fancy, very basic, which is exactly the way I wanted it. It looks new. And clean

Tiny Tuesday!

I realized at some point that I didn’t read any books during April. Not sure how that happened, unless it’s from keeping my eyes from getting fatigued. Did receive a book for my birthday, and it’s next on the list. This also arrived yesterday, so I’ve indulged myself in reading a few of the poems I loved as a high school senior. I volunteered to give Debby a refresher course, but she declined. She said she’s engrossed by a series about shape shifters.

Tom and I remembered we hadn’t watched the most recent season of The Crown, so it’s become our dinnertime viewing, and we’re now through the third episode. This particular episode made me sad to the point of tears. It’s hard to watch things when you know how painfully they will unfold.

Here’s the Neverending Saga playlist for my past few writing sessions.


Natalie Merchant’s Tiger Lily; George Michael’s Patience and the two-CD set Ladies and Gentlemen, The Best of George Michael; Bette Midler’s Experience The Divine: Greatest Hits and Bette of Roses; Robert Miles’s Dreamland; and Joni Mitchell’s Joni Mitchell: Hits. A good mix to write to.

Here’s your Jack update. Today, he went to his vet and got a little more hydration with Sub Q fluids, a special variety of dog food for gastro issues, and a lot of praise for being a good boy. He’s still eating some of the boiled chicken we have for him, but he also has a hearty appetite for the new kibble. It may take a few more days before he’s back to himself, but everything’s looking up, and his antibiotics and anti-nausea meds seem to be helping.

Because he’s been stoic through all of this, tonight, Jack got to wear “The [tiny] Crown.” If you think it looks a little more suited to a princess, he doesn’t care. He says if Harry Styles can make any fashion his own, so can he.


We are amused, and we concur.

Button Sunday

Since April is National Poetry Month, I chose this button.

After a very long and sleepless night of looking after Jack, I figured he was entitled to use his artist voice with some Wood Words (same company that makes all the Magnetic Poetry kits). Here’s his perspective.

I spent most of the dark hours of last night trying to keep him company and clean up after him. I think I fell asleep around five AM, and Tom was up by 6:30 AM. Jack was still feeling bad, but there was a lot less bloody diarrhea that needed to be cleaned up, which was great. I did laundry all night, and that continued throughout today. Gastroenteritis is hard on a little dog. He did finally start drinking water, which was a huge relief. He was badly dehydrated yesterday, and that can lead to shock and death. Twelve hours of IV fluids helped his body get on the right track; now drinking water holds another crisis at bay.

Be assured, the bed in this photo has since been washed, but this was Jack refusing food for at least the dozenth time today.

I mean, that bed… Ugh, but it doesn’t even begin to show how the house looked like a crime scene. In only minutes, Jack could leave five to seven puddles of blood across a room. It’s awful to imagine what his belly must have felt like.

He spent most of the day lying on a “pee pad” in Tom’s lap, sleeping while Tom watched TV, and we both kept laundry going. When all the other dogs ate dinner, Tom finally put the little bowl of food in a crate with Jack and closed the door. I went to check on him a few minutes later and…

Success! That was around 6:30, and again after 10 PM, he ate another small helping of food. So we are hoping very much that everyone sleeps tonight, the floors and dog beds are still clean in the morning, and Jack has indeed gotten his wish that “feeling good will come with time.”

Thank you everybody who texted and messaged and checked in on him today. We needed the support. Now we need sleep.

No Fun Saturday

Usually on April 28 (this year on Friday), I bake a cake or cupcakes and decorate with Pooh characters in honor of our late friend Steve’s birthday. Most years, there are friends or at least the four of us to sing happy birthday and have cake. This year, we had no plans with friends, and Tim was away housesitting, so Tom picked up some Hostess Ding Dongs to split with Debby and me, but we still made it a little festive.

Then today, Saturday, when we woke up, it was to discover Jack had been up most of the night very sick. It’s the weekend, so that meant going to the emergency vet, and Tom took him. They were there for about four hours getting blood drawn, exams, ultrasounds, etc., until they put Jack on an IV with meds and antibiotics. He couldn’t be picked up until 10 p.m. if he was showing improvement.


That generally killed my mental ability to write, because the better part of my mind was on our dog and hoping he was okay/would be okay. Instead, I tackled a project that’s been sitting on the kitchen bar for a few days: purging and organizing my recipes. In addition to my two recipe boxes, I have my mother’s, and a ton of handwritten papers with, or printouts of, recipes given to me or found online by me through the years. They were folded up and stuffed into these boxes or into whatever space I could find for them in my spice cabinet.


Everything is tidy now. All the recipes I wanted to keep have been transferred to index cards and then filed with the category where they belong. It’s going to be a lot easier for me to find what I’m looking for, because I cook a lot and plan to be cooking even more.


Here’s the pile of paper for recycling that will no longer be cluttering up my recipe boxes or my cabinet.


And here’s the dog who’s home, has meds, and needs to be on a special diet for a few days, and doesn’t want to do anything but sleep, not even eat or cuddle with Tom, which is UNHEARD of, because he always wants to be in Tom’s lap. We’re hoping a good night’s sleep will help, and Nurse/Aunt Debby says it can take 12-24 hours before meds they gave him for nausea, that probably make him lethargic, will work their way through his system. I hope tomorrow to be able to share that he’s doing lots better.