Yesterday, today, and two weeks from now…

Four years ago yesterday I lost a very good friend, a greyhound called Bo. Hope you’re still flying free, my brave boy. I still miss you and still hate Valentine’s Day because it reminds me that I was cheated out of a life with you.

Yesterday, as if on cue because it’s Valentine’s Day…I got my divorce papers. Couldn’t have been more perfect if I’d tried.

Two weeks from yesterday I will go on vacation and get to finally meet someone that has become very important to me.

Life is good.

Well Duh…

Yesterday would have been my BoBo’s 10th birthday. I wonder if that’s part of the cause of the funk? Who knows…but anyway, happy birthday at the bridge my sweet big boy. I still miss you EVERY day of my life…but I’m happy to wait for our bright Someday…when we can “walk in the rays of a beautiful sun” again.


love and scritches,

To My Hounds

BoBo – I miss how I’d hear your tags jingling when I put my key in the lock at the end of the day because you were the only one responsible enough to be allowed free reign of the house. The day you died was the last day I used the front door to come into the old house in Anderson.

Lizzard – I haven’t known when it’s 4:30pm since the day I left for Mountain Hounds because my Lizzard-Alarm is gone. Ask the others, they’ll tell you. I miss your big blind eyes staring at me till your nose figures out who I am and nips me on the nose like the disobediant pup I always am.

Profile – I love how you’ve managed to make a race track out of the 3 foot by 3 foot space in the guest room that has carpet, and how your eyes look when you lay your ears back and staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare at me.

Jeany – I love how you chatter your teefers like there’s an earthquake going on in your mouth and how when you perk your ears up your eyebrows follow suit.

Hunky – I love how after almost six years of being my protector, my lovey boy, my best friend and the other half of my brain…after six years, every time I lean down to hug you, you still stick your nose up into my hair right next to my neck, take a deep breath like you’re memorizing me, and sigh.

You know you’re exhausted when…Part Two

Let me quickly say first that I have a wonderful boss. He is a very intelligent man, quick-witted, dry sense of humor, and an all around good guy. I am quite lucky to work for someone who trusts my work enough to let me do my job without hovering about…rare in a state job. So no worries about getting Dooce’d over this posting.

One thing my boss is NOT is observant. I once cut about 10 inches off my hair and it took him several months to ask me what looked different about me. It requires a radical change in one’s appearance to get his attention and even more so to make him comment…such as if I stopped wearing suits to interpret in probate court and suddenly showed up in a halter top and flip flops. Well, actually, that would probably involve the authorites, an indecent exposure charge and some sort of endangerment to minors, but I digress…

My boss looked at me today and said, “Are you all right? You look sort of…” (pause as he, God bless him, searches for a non-offensive way to say I look like the underside of a mudflap in a blizzard)

“I look sort of what?”

“Well, sort of…grrrrrr.”


“Yeah, you know, grrr. Tense.”

I reminded him what day it was, and said that I was tired, and I handed him my leave slip from being out sick yesterday. God bless him again, he didn’t ask any more questions.

And here I thought that I looked rather “weeeee hooooo” with a touch of “oh mah gaaahd how granola!” today, as I skipped the makeup (to avoid raccoon-ism should I think of Bo and cry) and have my rats nest of curly tresses pulled up in a ponytail. I wonder if it’s my shoulders that are saying “grrrr” or perhaps my giant forehead…it does tend to snarl a bit when I pull back the hair that it normally hides behind.

Thank goodness it’s only 2 weeks until I leave to go to Sandy Paws and Jacksonville for five days…we wouldn’t want my “grrrr” to turn into a “rawr” or a “grrooowwwwl” because that’s when people get hurt. It’s only funny until someone’s attitude puts out an eye, after all.