Category Archives: Animals – especially dogs

Ms. Watson: 2008–2023

Yesterday was a sad day for us. Our cat, little Ms. Watson, had been doing poorly, and when we took her to the vets, the diagnosis was liver cancer. As Ms. Watson had lost one pound in three weeks—a lot for a cat who only weighs twelve pounds—and had stopped eating, we decided to have her put down. Clif and I decided there was no sense in prolonging her misery, and our vet agreed.

Still, how hard it is to watch a beloved pet die, and I made use of the tissues in our vet’s office. We stayed to the very end, patting Ms. Watson’s head and talking to her. She was fourteen years old and had lived a long life, but we were hoping to have her for a few more years. We always want more, don’t we?

Ms. Watson was one of the sweetest cats we have ever had, but she came to us as an afterthought. Fourteen years ago, I went to the local humane shelter to pick up an orange kitten I had seen listed on their website. (I have a special fondness for orange cats.) In the cage with the orange kitten was his litter mate, a little black and white female.

The man working at the desk said, “I’ll give you two for the price of one.”

“Okay,” I said, figuring the kittens would keep each other company, and home I came with the orange kitten—Sherlock—and his black and white sister—Ms. Watson.

As it turned it out, Sherlock was a real handful. On a good day, you might call him “a character.” On a bad day, well never mind that. Let’s just say Sherlock was an alpha cat supreme, and he never let Ms. Watson forget who was in charge. Bullying would not be too strong a word to describe how he treated her.

Ms. Watson, on the other hand, was a sweetheart from beginning to end. Two years ago, when Sherlock was partly paralyzed and lying on the kitchen floor, Ms. Watson slowly approached him and gave him one, two, three soft licks on the head. (A little later, I took Sherlock to the vets to be put down, and, yes, I cried for him, too.) I think Ms. Watson understood how sick Sherlock was and was showing her sympathy.

Not surprisingly, Ms. Watson loved being an only cat. She became queen of the house and could roam freely without fear of being bullied by Sherlock. At night, when I watched T.V., my lap was her favorite place. She became very talkative, meowing her greetings or her displeasure, depending on the situation. In the morning, when I turned on our gas heater, she came running to sit by it and absorb the warmth.

However, the happiest day of Ms. Watson’s life was when our daughter Dee came to stay with us in the summer of 2021. Dee is a cat lover, and Ms. Watson, usually very shy, decided that Dee was her special person. Each morning, before Dee got up, Ms. Watson would be waiting by the door, and as soon as Dee opened it, Ms. Watson meowed her greeting. She often stayed in Dee’s room during the day, keeping Dee company while she worked remotely. It was a mutual admiration society, and Dee loved Ms. Watson as much as Ms. Watson loved Dee.

Ms. Watson’s passing is the end of an era for us. For the first time since we moved into this house—nearly forty years ago—we do not have any pets. For various reasons, we don’t plan on getting another cat, and this makes Ms. Watson’s passing all the more poignant.

Farewell, Ms. Watson. How we miss you. You will be in our hearts forever.




Friday in the Park

The pandemic took away many things, but one thing it has given me is a fondness for parks. Leafy, green, and usually free, they are great places to meet people for a leisurely afternoon. You can stay as long as you want to—no pointed looks from servers indicating that it’s time to leave. If you bring a picnic lunch, the cost is no more than it would be if you had lunch at home. If you feel like splurging, there’s takeout.

Before the pandemic, we seldom met people in parks. Now it is one of our favorite things to do, and I expect we’ll be doing it long after the pandemic ends.

Last Friday, we got together with our daughter Shannon and our son-in-law, Mike at Rotary Park, a small but pretty park in Kennebunk, Maine. (U.S. readers might recall that the Bushes have a summer home in nearby Kennebunkport.) Kennebunk is almost exactly halfway between where we live in Winthrop and where Shannon and Mike live in Massachusetts.

And here’s another great thing about most parks—dogs are allowed if they are on a leash. So it was with Rotary Park. Shannon and Mike could bring their dogs, Holly and Somara, and not have to worry about getting back home to let them out. Plus, it’s nice having “the girls” join us.

Holly on the left and Somara on the right.


The day was sunny and warm, and we settled on the grass in a shady spot near the rushing Moussam River.

But there is also a gazebo with picnic tables where folks can have their lunch.

Because the park is in the center of town, there are plenty of places nearby to grab a bite to eat. For a belated birthday lunch, Dee, Shannon, and Mike chipped in to buy us takeout from Kennebunk Rice and Noodles. Both Clif and I ordered the drunken noodles, which were utterly delicious. Clif likes hot food. By the time he was done, his face was red, and he was sweating. Me, not so much. A gentle little zing suits me just fine. Luckily, we were able to choose how hot we wanted our noodles to be.

Yes, I ate the whole thing. I could have some right now.


Dee and Mike are pizza hounds, and right across from the noodle shop was Kennebunk House of Pizza. Nice to have different choices for different tastes.

After the food was finished and Holly had slyly slurped some of Clif’s coffee and both dogs were given pizza crust ends, we settled down for a long afternoon chat. There were presents and chocolate cupcakes. We talked about what was going on in our lives and what we were watching. We took a stab at solving the world’s problems, with predictable results.

Late afternoon, as we were getting ready to leave, we all agreed that Rotary Park was a great place to meet in the spring and the fall. (Too cold in the winter, too crowded in the summer.)

We will be back. Until then, I’ll be dreaming about those drunken noodles.


Speaking of watching (and listening!)…this lovely song—“This Wandering Day”— is from the television series The Rings of Power, a prequel to J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. I have been a huge Tolkien fan since I was eleven, but it seems to me that you don’t have to be a Tolkien fan to appreciate the beauty and sadness of this song.

The Dog Days of Summer

For the past few days, we have hosted two canine visitors:


and Somara.

They are staying with us while our daughter Shannon and our son-in-law Mike vacation in Ireland. Our backyard—about a half acre—is fenced in, which gives the dogs plenty of space to romp and sniff while we relax on the patio.

Even though both Holly and Somara are ten years old and fairly sedate, they certainly have put a merry spin on things. Dogs do that, and it’s one of the things I love about them. Cats, on the other hand, have a more zen-like cool, and I love that, too.

Our own little Miss Watson is not impressed with the canine visitors, and she has made herself scarce while the dogs are here. I tell her that in a few days, Holly and Somara will be back with Shannon and Mike. Miss Watson just looks at me, indicating that she will believe it when she sees it.


The gardens are lush and green, despite the lack of rain. While much of the country swelters, we have had what my friend Claire calls an old-fashioned summer in Maine. Warm, but not too hot, and for the most part not too humid. I feel so sorry for the folks in this country and around the world who must deal with extreme heat. I hope cooler weather comes to them soon.

Here are some pictures of what’s blooming in my yard.

Daylilies, aglow.

A closer look.

Hostas, whose leaves are being munched on by slugs and snails.

Finally, a procession of blooms going up our front steps.

Summer, beautiful summer.

Christmas in February

After going through two years of pandemic quiet, we recorded last weekend in the excitement column in the Ledger of Life. (Thanks to Tootlepedal for introducing me to this term.) The cause of the excitement? At long last, our daughter Shannon and our son-in-law Mike came for a visit.

With them they brought the inimitable Holly

and sweet Somara.

The title of this post gives a clue as to how we celebrated this weekend. The Christmas tree behind Holly in the first picture is also a clue.

For various reasons, Shannon and Mike were unable to join us in December to celebrate Christmas. But because we knew they would eventually make it to Maine, we decided to keep the tree up until they did come, which happened to be last weekend.

We had a jolly time of gift giving and conversation. We played Christmas music, and outside there was a soft sprinkle of falling snow. Although it was February, it felt like Christmas.

After presents, we introduced Shannon and Mike to the board game Horrified, which they both liked very much.

On Sunday, Shannon, Mike, and the dogs left Maine to head home, and we bid them a sad farewell.

On Monday, we got up at God-awful o’clock—3:45 a.m.—to bring our eldest daughter Dee to Portland to take a bus back to New York, where she has various things to take care of.

Now it’s just Clif and me, and, yes, it’s more than a little lonely.  Yet I can’t help but think how grand it is that we so enjoy being with our kids. Both Clif and I feel that there is no better company than Dee, Shannon, and Mike. We are lucky parents, that’s for sure.

When we returned from Portland, we each took a little nap. Getting up at 3:45 certainly isn’t our thing. Then, down came the tree.

The living room is now back to normal.

As soon as her business is taken care of, Dee plans to return to Maine for a while, and in March, we will to go to Massachusetts to visit Shannon, Mike, and the dogs.

And maybe, just maybe, we’ll be able to play a game we bought Shannon for Christmas—The Big Book of Madness, recommended by Carol Ann on her fabulous blog Fashioned for Joy.

More good things to record in the Ledger of Life.







When Life Gives You Temperamental Weather, Cook

Maine weather tends to be—ahem—temperamental, but for the past two days, it’s been a real whiplash. On Saturday, the temperature soared to 50°F. In Maine in February that, my friends, is akin to a heatwave.

For the first time in a long while, there were puddles in the driveway, and patches of tar peeked through the ice. (The stripes across the driveway are tree shadows.)

Dreaming of spring, Little Miss Watson stared out the window.

However,  despite the warmer weather, none of us—including Little Miss Watson—were tempted to go outside where the dirty snow was piled high and the sides of the road were mucky. Instead, we stayed in and cooked.

Now, the food we make would never be considered restaurant quality or bakery ready. Often, our creations look a little wonky, off center even. Simply put, we are home cooks.

Our pizza wasn’t exactly round.

And our Valentine’s peanut butter cups? Well, judge for yourselves.

But both the pizza and the peanut butter hearts tasted better than their rough looks might otherwise indicate. What we lack in finesse we usually make up for in taste.

The chocolate muffins, on the other hand, had a pleasing muffiny shape. These muffins are egg free and dairy free, but judging from the flavor, you’d never know it. I’ve developed the recipe on my own, and for those who feel daring, I have included it at the end of this post.

Along with food, throw in board games as well as movies and that was our weekend.

And this morning—Monday—when I got up, the temperature had dropped from its high of 50° to a brisk 10°. In two days’ time, the temperature had dropped 40°.

Time to make some more muffins, I think.


Cocoa Muffins, Egg Free and Dairy Free


  • Three tablespoons water mixed with 1 teaspoon psyllium husk powder  
  • 1 cup almond milk (oat milk or soy milk would work fine, too.)
  • 1/4 cup vegetable oil
  • 1 teaspoon of vanilla
  • 1/2 cup sugar plus a little more for sprinkling on top
  • 2 cups all purpose flour
  • 4 tablespoons of cocoa powder
  • 3 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup of peanut butter chips or chocolate chips (optional)


  1.  Preheat over to 400°F.
  2. Grease or spray muffin tin.
  3. In a large bowl, mix the 1 teaspoon of psyllium husk powder with 3 tablespoons of water. Let it set a minute or two until it jells.
  4. Into the jelled psyllium husk powder whisk in the 1 cup of almond milk, 1/4 cup vegetable oil, and 1 teaspoon of vanilla.
  5. Stir in 1/2 cup sugar.
  6. Sift together the 2 cups flour, 4 tablespoons cocoa powder, 3 teaspoons baking powder, and 1 teaspoon salt, and mix into the sugar/psyllium mixture just until flour is moistened. Note: The batter will be very thick. The muffins come out fine this way, but a tablespoon or two of additional milk can be added for a thinner, batter, which also makes good muffins.
  7. Fold in peanut butter chips or chocolate chips, if using.
  8. Fill muffin cups 2/3 full. Sprinkle sugar on top.
  9. Bake 20-25 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the muffin comes out with a few sticky crumbs.

Makes 6 large muffins or 12 medium muffins.

The Dog Angel: A Maine Christmas Story

Much of writing involves discipline—sitting at the desk, day in and day out, and working even if you aren’t exactly filled with inspiration. I believe this is called discipline, and it is essential not only for writing but for many other things, too.

However, once in a while a writer gets lucky, and a story seemingly drops out of nowhere, practically whole cloth with only a small amount of fiddling. So it was for me this November with my short story “The Dog Angel,”  with two things coming together to inspire me.

First, there was Aimee Man’s melancholy but lovely Christmas song “Calling on Mary.”

Then there was this ornament, which I featured in a previous post.

Actually, there was a third inspiration, and if you look closely through the glass table, you can see Rumer Godden’s The Story of Holly & Ivy, one of my favorite Christmas tales. Do read it if you haven’t already. Anyway, “The Dog Angel” is a sort of homage to The Story of Holly & Ivy.

In my imagination, I saw a little dark-haired girl and her dark-haired mother, two drifters in the snow, homeless. They were in Waterville, Maine, in the 1970s, in the South End, the Franco-American section of town where I lived when I was very young. Because I like fantasy and folderol, I added a dog angel.

And the rest, dear readers, I will let you discover for yourselves if you are in the mood for a Maine Christmas story. “The Dog Angel” is a free online read available on our Hinterlands Press website. It’s a longish story—about 7,000 words—but it pops along, and you can certainly read it in sections if you like.

Happy holidays to all! May the spirit of generosity be with us not only now but throughout the rest of the year, too.


A Scorchah of a Week

According to the weather forecast, Maine is supposed to have a scorcher of a week. Or scorchah, as we Mainers pronounce it. (Mainers have a complicated relationship with the letter r. Someday, for blogging friends unfamiliar with Maine lingo, I will write a post about this.) Anyway, today there is a heat advisory, with heat values of up to 100°F. Thank goodness we bought an air conditioner last year. Hats off to Eva, who is keeping the house at a bearable temperature.

Is this Maine in June? I know I keep harking on this, but I’m old, and I remember the days when June in Maine was cool and rainy. Once upon a time, summer in Maine was oh so sweet, and I sure do long for those summers.

Fortunately, last weekend was not as hot. Instead, the weather was just right.  On Friday, my friend Claire came over for tea and chocolate chip oat bars. She brought her dear dog Hannah over, and how nice it was to have a dog visitor. Pretty nice to visit with Claire, too.

On Saturday, we went to one of my favorite places in town—van der Brew, a craft brewery and tasting room. Claire’s son Patrick (on the right in the picture below) was playing there that night, and a group of us went to hear him play a variety of rock and roll songs. Such a good singer and musician.

Before Patrick started playing, we bought pizza from Brick Oven Bakery, a food trailer that features pizza, bread sticks, and baked goods.

While waiting for our pizza to bake, we sat outside. Clif had a chat with our friend Jill, whom we hadn’t seen for a long, long time.

Next to our table was another dear dog, Beau, who gave me a high-five with his paw when I gave him a dog biscuit provided by his person.

Then came the pizza. Jiminy Cricket, that pizza was good! I could have a piece right now.

While unfortunately I can’t have a slice of that pizza right now, Brick Oven Bakery will be at van der Brew’s every weekend except one for the month of July.

This Friday night is trivia night at the Brew’s. Clif and I just might head down there for good food and plenty of folderol.

Nifty posts from blogging friends near and far:

Check out New England Garden and Thread for one the cutest little vegetable gardens I have ever seen.

From Thistles and Kiwis, food, glorious food.

From Tranature, a poignant poem about Xenia’s grandmother.

Canberra’s Green Spaces features winter pictures of one the most beautiful capitals in the world.

Ju-Lyn, of Touring my Backyard, features two snappy sculptures by the same artist. Then she asks, which is your favorite? I immediately knew which one I liked the best.


A Couple of not too Bad Pictures of a Hummingbird

Two weeks ago, on May 9, it snowed in Maine. Here is the picture to prove it.

Today, in the shade, the temperature was over 80° Fahrenheit, probably 85°  in the sun. What a difference two weeks can make in Maine.

This afternoon, I was going to divide and move some hostas but it seemed too hot to do this, both for me and the plants. I will go out tomorrow morning and tackle those hostas. (Frances Williams, one of the hostas, is a formidable plant to divide, especially now that I have arthritis in my hands, knees, and feet.)

In truth, the whole week has been warm but not too warm to take a picture of this cardinal,

and this little red squirrel peeking out.

And finally  a couple of not too bad pictures of a hummingbird.

Again, I will keep trying to get better pictures.

Stay tuned.