Eight Bells on the Last Dog’s Watch

It was a short errand, but I put on my gear, anyway. Might as well pretend I know what I’m doing. We have a motorcycle ride scheduled for Monday, up along some of my favorite King and Snohomish county roads. I laid out the route on Friday morning. It’s a good one. One of my … [more]

The Living Season

My mother, who’s paid her dues in the nursing home – so far, thank G-D, not as a patient – calls January “the dying season.” Mom’s not a cynical woman. She is, in fact, a spectacular woman. She’s also a realist. Many of her post-adult charges held on to life just long enough to spend … [more]

Regarding Tucker

The hole stands at four feet long, three across, three feet deep. It’s not done yet. Today I sawed apart the wind-tipped apple tree, pulled the stump, and got started. Tomorrow, I’ll shovel more dirt out of the hole. I’m well into the clay layer now, and the sides are holding up proudly. As for … [more]

Boxing Day

It’s not much of a present: kind of a lumpy little box, knocked up from plywood with brad-pinned butt joints. Its four stubby legs are sawn sections of thick oaken doweling, and the vaguely shoe-shaped carrying handle doubles as a foot rest for a man receiving a shine. Shoe shine boxes were a classic shop … [more]

Remission Rates & Dog Rebates

I’m almost afraid to post this. One year before the day before Halloween 2013, Tucker Dog had his leg taken off due to cancer. In medical terminology, he was “disarticulated at the hip,” which is just as horrifying and brutal as it sounds. He came home on Halloween night shaking with terror, crawled up on … [more]

No one ever buys a dog

…nor do you get one as a gift. Dogs aren’t slaves or property. You earn dogs, the way you earn children: by cleaning up their poo; by never giving up on them; by firm corrections; by loving forgiveness when you know damn well they knew better; by playing with them anyway when you’re just too … [more]

Nut ‘n’ Honey

“Wanna walk up to the post office with me?” “No. I hate walking to get mail. It takes like forty minutes, and nothing gets done,” Pretty Wife said. “It makes me crazy.” “OK.” Couldn’t blame the lass. I tore a little cartilage in my right knee about a month ago, playing at Aikido with people … [more]

Corporate Benfeasance

Some years before I met Pretty Wife, she was gifted with a mighty fine spade by her excellent mother, who is a gardening dynamo of distinguished taste. Even several years later, it remains a lovely thing with the kind of gleam to its ever-honed stainless steel blade that exemplifies a friend’s description of my snappy … [more]