The Best Dog




She’s just a dog. Like every other dog, she has her own personality, likes and dislikes, favorite foods and play toys.  So why does she seem so special? That’s the question of the day: what makes her the best of the three… and that statement is not made lightly.


Bree is a spoiled brat, assured of her place as Queen of everything. She picks on the other two, wielding her larger paws like bats as she swats at their heads.  If she wants their chews or food, she simply walks up and starts growling. Many fights have begun between Bree and Badger in such a way.

Daisy is a primitive psychotic. But she know enough about her spot in the pecking order that she does not fight.  She might growl or posture, but she knows that she would lose in a match with either Bree or Badger.

The funny thing is, once she’s growled, they disengage. Why won’t they tangle with her? It’s a question for the ages. Can you tell I watch these dogs like they’re a science experiment?

Badger. The Honey Badger is sweet and loving like no dog I’ve ever known.

She can also be your worst nightmare. Her fights with Bree are getting more dire, only because she won’t back down, not even in the face of a larger opponent with bigger teeth.  Honey Badger don’t care. She goes full out on everything; loving, fighting, eating, living. She’s the Auntie Mame of the canine world.

She’s the protector of us… and of those weaker than herself. She’s taken Daisy under her wing and when Bree tries to swat her on the head or take away her chew, Badger flies at the larger dog. She puts herself between them.

I’m sitting at my desk and Badger is draped across my lap asleep. At night she sleeps with us in bed, sometimes lying besides Mike, sometimes myself. Always wanting to touch, even in her dreams.

Badger is very attentive, even outside. She watches my face and eyes to make sure she misses nothing; not a direction or a kind word. She’s the only dog who comes when I call without fail, who goes inside and outside on my command. The other two, especially Bree, could care less.  Well, Daisy is usually caught up in hunting and is loathe to obey.

So Badger is the best girl. Period.




Okay, I sort of forgot this space existed. But it’s a new year and in my zeal to start over there are many (scads, even!)  hopes of writing.



Okay, at least once or twice in 2016. And this counts as one.

Anyway, these boids looked like they had the kind of night my dogs did: mildly terrifying. I now hate any holiday that involves loud noises.

I imagine them in conversation thusly…


“Dude, what’d you do last night?”


“Oh, Charlie and I went out partying… oops, there he goes! Little too much canal water over near the tuna plant, you know?”


“Really, Charlie? Get it together man!”



Breagha is Nine

My darling girl turns 9 today.


She doesn’t look like this photo anymore. Gone is the sleek hair. The sleek, toned body as well. It’s been replaced with too much white, skin tags and fatty cysts the doc doesn’t want to excise.


Yet this old dog is more precious to me than her younger self could ever have been. She’s still herself, translating for the little dogs and bossing everyone around. We have the love, understanding and yes, even comfort, that comes with spending years together, just as my husband and I do. Nothing can replace that, absolutely nothing.

Happy Birthday, my sweet girl. May we have many more years together.

Now, a puppy picture. Or two.







From Seeds


Found this and a couple of its siblings growing in my back yard… and I know they originated from seeds not because I planted them, but because my neighbor has some growing roughly 20 feet away. Pretty, anyway.

Yup, took it this morning. Obviously. Could the shadows be any more of a giveaway?