I remember standing in the muddy paddock back on my parents’ farm, breathless and aching, trying to keep up with a particularly spirited Border Collie [Read More…]
I still remember the chaos of my first week at the rescue sanctuary, where a tiny, wobbling golden retriever pup managed to find my favorite [Read More…]
I remember sitting on my porch last autumn, clutching a lukewarm mug of tea and watching the sunset, feeling that heavy, hollow ache that comes [Read More…]
The other morning, I was out in the garden trying to arrange some smooth river stones into the shape of a sleeping tabby—I’ve named this [Read More…]
The other morning, I was out in the garden trying to arrange some dried oak leaves into the shape of a sleeping tabby—I’ve named this [Read More…]
I was sitting on my porch the other morning, watching a particularly stubborn tabby—whom I’ve named after the legendary veterinarian Louis Pasteur—try to hunt a [Read More…]
I was sitting on my porch this morning, watching a stray tabby—whom I’ve affectionately named Louis Pasteur after the great microbiologist—stalk a butterfly through the [Read More…]
I was sitting on the floor of my sunroom yesterday, trying to arrange some smooth river stones into the shape of a sleeping tabby, when [Read More…]
I was sitting on the back porch this morning, nursing a lukewarm coffee and watching a heavy gray mist roll over the pasture, when Barnaby—the [Read More…]
I was sitting on my porch yesterday, watching a little tabby I’ve named Louis Pasteur (he’s quite the distinguished fellow, despite his penchant for chasing [Read More…]
