Who Knew my Rat-killing Rescue Dog Is Part Whippet?

It was a beautiful Sunday during Coronavirus lock-down. After yelling at my neighbor yesterday (whom I barely know), although he did deserve it, I decided that I am stressed. It’s because I am not going to exercise classes. They’re all canceled. After running to the store for the SF Chronicle, apples, bananas, and my sister’s… Continue reading Who Knew my Rat-killing Rescue Dog Is Part Whippet?

There’s Bitchy and There’s Old-lady Bitchy

I could’ve called it My Bitchy Saturday but opted instead for the other title.  It started off with the grocery store clerk putting my bag of apples at the bottom of the bag, then placing two dozen eggs, a pound of turkey, and a container of cake on top of them. Yes, I bought a… Continue reading There’s Bitchy and There’s Old-lady Bitchy

Daisy’s Debut with Diamonds

Two things you need to know:  1. Daisy is a rescue dog.  2.  The diamonds are really rhinestones on her new collar. Yes, I have become one of those dog owners, making my little dog cute for the world to see. Who doesn’t need a little bling in her life? Even if you happen to… Continue reading Daisy’s Debut with Diamonds

Wrapping Up the Weekend

It’s Sunday evening, the dogs are snoring, and I reflect on my awesome weekend. Nothing monumental happened.  It was your run of the mill event, with a return trip from Monterey, a potluck party to attend, a visit to Sis, lunch with my son, a couple of dog walks, and an afternoon sewing, gardening, and… Continue reading Wrapping Up the Weekend

There’s Bitchy and There’s Old-lady Bitchy

I could’ve called it My Bitchy Saturday but opted instead for the other title.  It started off with the grocery store clerk putting my bag of apples at the bottom of the bag, then placing two dozen eggs, a pound of turkey, and a container of cake on top of them. Yes, I bought a… Continue reading There’s Bitchy and There’s Old-lady Bitchy

When the Rescue Dog is a Ratter

The timid white dog with the brown head wouldn’t take a treat from the rescue dog volunteer.  I liked her face, anyway, and took her home. Fast forward 18 months.  The plum tree in the back side yard becomes loaded with fruit. The platform for the shed which I stupidly put next to the plum… Continue reading When the Rescue Dog is a Ratter

Daisy Strikes Again

After a five mile hike, my legs ached and wanted to go to bed. I turned off the news at 10:15, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and then headed down the hall to the main bathroom with the doggy door. Both dogs were outside barking. I turned around and went to the kitchen slider,… Continue reading Daisy Strikes Again