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
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
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
I forgot my phone. I’m sitting in the auto repair shop entrance where I’m waiting for my car’s oil change, and I forgot to bring my smart phone along. My smart phone. Hah! If it’s so smart, why didn’t it … Continue reading
But of all the years, of all the gin joints, you were the one that walked into my life last January, looking all innocent and hopeful. You sent me to Brazil for the first time, where I got to teach and that was an extraordinary experience I’ll never forget.