Wracked with Guilt over Henry & Oliver

I don’t think I’m the only one who leaves home each morning to head for work, but could I be the only one who does so wracked with guilt thanks to my pets? Continue reading

Oliver–and Hank?

Nobody thinks I can write. Maybe it’s because I’m little. Hank calls me a pipsqueak, and I guess Hank should know. He’s my big bro and one day he’s going to be king of all of us. That’s what he tells me, anyway, and I believe him. Continue reading

Henry & The Boy Wonder

Last night after Henry’s appetite was satiated, thanks to a dinner of salmon and rice, and after a rather pleasant constitutional, the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel rested idly on the couch. With all the reverence I could muster, I said this to his Highness, who without any question, descends from royalty:

“Master Henry, as I am heading to the country soon for a long, relaxing weekend, would you be so kind to post a blog in my stead?” Continue reading

Henry in a Handbasket

A certain pup, known in some parts as Oliver Twist, just celebrated his third birthday. Meanwhile, another pup, or should I say, dog of royal descent who shall remain nameless, wasn’t too happy about it. In a funk, because of the birthday and because his favorite television series had just ended its six-year run. Here was my first clue that he was out of sorts:

“The world is going to hell in a handbasket,” declared the royal canine. Continue reading