We dogsat--um, sitted?--for a friend's canine last week, and enjoyed it very much. As many of you know, our own dog, Beowulf, passed away last July.


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No one knows where Beowulf came from.


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When hamsters came into my house years ago they had little plastic balls, so they could run merrily all over. (Humans now have those, too. You’d think we could just walk.) We did have to close the door to the basement while they were out. I thought it would be kind of funny to hear the “thump-thump” of a rodent taking a ride, but the kids thought ( Read more... )

With blogs like this I've learned to make it abundantly clear: He's OK.

Beowulf is about fourteen, as near as we can figure, which is Methuselah in human years. According to the Bible, Moses lived to be 120; Beowulf is that close to making it to the promised land. What that brings with it, at least for owners, is worry. After all, we've had him for ( Read more... )

Before we start, let me stress: Everyone's doing better.

So, how has 2022 been for you, so far? A rerun of the last two years? Me, too.

The first week of the year we had to take Beowulf to the animal hospital in Fort Wayne, and we returned just in time to learn my 96 year old grandmother was being taken to a human hospital with a possible broken ( Read more... )

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK ( Read more... )