Why I love my dogs…


“The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog…

He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world…

When all other friends desert, he remains.”

– George V. Vest

I could not have said it better. I love my dogs.




Use it or lose it?

I was just wondering to myself, as I put on my clothes for the day, whether WordPress would close me down here if I failed to produce an entry in this blog for a certain period of time. 

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve been here, and I offer no excuses. 

I work.  Like most of you out there do.  My work doesn’t have the typical boundaries, though, that a regular 9-to-5 job has.  It seems that I always have folders of work on my desk here to do.  There is rarely a time when I don’t have work staring at me in the face as I sit at my computer.  And being from the old school that work takes precedence over fun, I very rarely these days find the time to organize my thoughts enough to produce a comprehensive blog entry. 

Even now, although I don’t have the work folders staring at me, they are over there in my ditty-bag waiting for me to take them back to the main office so I can pick up the next batch of folders of work.  Then I’ll have work staring me in the face again for the weekend, although we are supposed to have today – The Fourth of July – off as a holiday. 

Husband never gets a holiday.  So my schedule of all work and no play fits right in with his own self-made schedule.  Lobsters don’t take holidays off, they keep getting caught no matter what day it is, and it is Paul’s obligation to go out there and haul those traps, put new bait in the bags, and sink them for another round of lobsters who are unlucky enough to wander into the trap meant for them.

The dogs also don’t observe holidays.  I’m sure some dogs do…. thanks to their masters and mistresses doing it for them.  But generally, a dog just wakes up on 365 days of the year saying, “good morning – what’s doing today?” with no conception of a holiday.  Nothing changes for them.  It’s just morning, daylight, time to interact again with their humans.

So holidays aren’t really anything special here.  Just another day.  And this one isn’t any different.  But it’s the birthday of our country, so I’ll take this opportunity to say Happy Birthday, America here.  You all probably know that my heart lies in the green rolling hills and dales of England – Old England – much more so than this side of the pond.  But this is where I was planted for this lifetime, and so this is where I must call home. 

For now.

Happy Birthday, America. 

The land of the free (?), and the home of the brave.