Category: The dogs

A Halloween fantasy

Throwback Thursday — Sept. 29, 2024. You may have noticed I have started using Thursdays to spotlight past blog posts that have found their way into my books. Two years ago I wrote a novel by writing a different chapter every day for 34 days. This is the beginning of the post that became Chapter 2 of Dejah & Summer in the Time of Magic. My two golden retrievers have suddenly started talking, and Dejah mentions that there seems to be an inter-dimensional portal in the back yard …

“Eww, you need to pick up back here more,” said Summer, who was the timid young dog.

“I’ll take care of it after we deal with this inter-dimensional portal that Dejah found near the garden shed,” I said, watching my step anyway.

“It’s right over here,” Dejah said.

“I’m still a little freaked out that you’re talking,” I admitted.

“That freaks you out, but not the inter-dimensional portal floating in the air?” Dejah said.

“Well, I have to say that adds to the freakout factor.”

We reached the garden shed. Sure enough, some sort of round glowing thing was hanging in the air, kind of a cross between the Guardian of Forever in Star Trek and the Stargate in Stargate except without the artificial structure forming it, and we could see another world through it. Not an alien world — we could see grass and trees on the other side — just a different world.

“Hang on,” Dejah said, looking up through the portal. “What’s that?”

“I don’t see anything.”

“That’s because you’re not looking from down here.”

Then I saw what she meant. A shadow fell across the opening, and then a huge, scaly foot appeared. It was ghastly and gnarled and looked more like a tree trunk than animal skin, with three clawed toes.

The foot began a cautious descent through the portal into the back yard.

“I’m going back in the house now,” said Summer, and she scampered up the stairs to the deck.

– – – – –

You can read what happens next by clicking back through my blog archive to Sept. 28 through Nov. 1, 2024, or by asking your favorite bookseller to order Dejah & Summer in the Time of Magic, ISBN 979-8-9863331-8-2. You can also just buy the ebook and start reading now by clicking on this link. In any case, thank you for your attention and happy reading!

When chaos is wonderful

Listen to this post:

This weekend was the fifth anniversary of Choosing Summer Day. The shy golden retriever who inhabits my home and this blog (and co-stars in Dejah & Summer in the Time of Magic) was born July 20, 2021, picked out of the litter on Aug. 29, and taken home to stay on Sept. 11.

The 45 minutes I spent on the floor with 10 five-week-old golden retriever puppies remains one of the highlights of my life. Everyone should have an experience like that one; it would eliminate almost all of the unhappiness in the world.

We had picked the name “Summer” during the two-hour drive to the breeders’ home, where we met Windsor, her magnificent father, and Lady, her sweet mom. Lady had delivered eight female pups and two males, and we had signed up for a girl. All I had to do was dive in and choose. My answer to the question “how do you pick from among eight puppies?” was to get to know them all as best as I could.

I absolutely forget how I decided which puppy was Summer. After 45 minutes she was my pal, somehow. To tell the truth, the puppy who really seemed to want to come home with us was one of the two males, and I had to keep saying, “I’m sorry, buddy, but you can’t,” the poor little guy.

I have no idea which one of the puppies in this photo is the one wearing the yellow collar that I finally chose. Cj and I took a lot of photos that show my delight and more sweet little faces, but this is the one that shows all 10 of them in the midst of the wonderful chaos.

The 13-year-old

Listen to this post:

When Dejah Thoris, Princess of Mars, had been ours for about a month, we noticed that she wouldn’t stop eating stuff in the back yard: pebbles, sticks, mulch, grass, you name it. Our vet, who performed emergency surgery, said some of the sharp sticks could have done all sorts of damage in there, from perforating organs to obstructing everything.

When she was a year or two old, she suddenly had trouble just standing up to walk. It was Lyme disease, which recurred a few years later and for which she still tests positive even though she has fully recovered.

Dejah — who got that name because I wanted to have an excuse to tell people to watch the wrongly maligned Andrew Stanton near-masterpiece John Carter — has defied expectations. Her big sister Willow The Best Dog There Is™ died a few days shy of her 12th birthday, so when I took 11-year-old Dejah to the vet for an issue I no longer remember, I asked about her chances.

“I don’t see any reason she won’t make it to her 12th birthday just fine,” said the vet.

Today, Dejah turns 13.

Except for the five months between Willow’s death and the arrival of puppy Summer, the poor thing has always played second fiddle. I bonded with Willow closer than any other canine in my life, and puppies always demand more attention than the old dog, so I have probably never given Dejah all of the consideration she deserves.

She doesn’t seem to mind. She accepts what belly rubs and ear scratches that she can gather, she is always up for a treat — they are prescription diet treats these days and not the well-known brands — and she gleefully wrestles with Summer for possession of the throw rug, which is probably the hardiest bit of home decor ever manufactured.

Never mind that she spends most days lying on her back having a good, pleasant snooze anymore; that most nights she gets up at least once or twice to go out in the back yard (heck, so do I); and most of the time it’s a bit of a struggle to stand up (again, me too).

Dejah Thoris, Princess of Mars, is a survivor with a big golden retriever smile. When I mentioned that I was writing about this old dog for today, Mary said, “I have a feeling this won’t be her last birthday.”

I’ve never had a 14-year-old golden retriever. Heck, I never had a 12-year-old before last August, and today, Dejah is 13. We’ll take it one day at a time, perhaps for 365 more.