Dogs Of Our Lives

I’m sprinting through a field of alfalfa, in rain boots and a winter coat. Car headlights on CC illuminate a brown, shaggy silhouette. A dog. Our dog, I curse. Do the drivers see my headlamp bobbing in the dark? I turn on my cell phone light and wave it in the air. I’m yelling, “Duke!” I’m 30 feet from him on the other side of the road. He looks up at me, considering. And bolts again. Another car comes slowly by. Makes space for Duke on the road but otherwise uncaring. 

I’m mad at myself for leaving the door  unlatched. Who would guess a senior giant breed that sleeps all day turns into a gazelle with the thrill of escape? This fucking dog is living his best new life because of us and he has the balls (well, not really) to run away at dawn, into cornfields and over county highways. Worse yet, I am following him like a caring idiot. Well, not anymore. I’m back home now. 

I spend maybe five minutes inside, jabbing at the computer to make a lost dog flyer, before going out again. There’s another car stopped with flashers on. I hear whistling. There he is again, trotting/limping along the edge of the road as if he’s taking himself for a walk. 

A car stops. Eric on one side of the road and me on the other. Duke has to be tired by now. Eric lunges at him and grabs his collar. 

Duke sulks behind me on the leash. I’m mostly annoyed that my morning was stolen. I do feel responsible for this beast. I enjoy his gigantic body laying in the kitchen. Maybe that’s what I was chasing after…. Something just shy of fondness for a dog that is new to us and old to this world. 

Poet Moment: An Acrostic

An acrostic for you! Unbeknownst to me at the time, I already tried an acrostic when writing ABC’s of Gratitude. So I’m upping the ante with a double acrostic, in response to Writing 201’s Poetry Prompt: Trust.

the  “right”  choice to make  today
regretting mistakes from long ago
unless     you’re a sage     or a guru
sadly, another  knows  no answer
to  each   question    that   unfolds
inching    toward     iffy     outcome
nagging indecision, an empty feel
get going    knowing    the value of


This Summer’s Gonna Hurt Like A…

A tingly numbness started in the heel of the left foot, through the hamstring and into the gluteus muscles. Mile by mile, I watched the pain move up and down my leg. I made note of each ache, compiling a full report for my next physical therapy appointment. I thought I wasn’t strong enough or something needed to work itself out. I kept running.

When I sat down, the pain pinched the hip and irritated the gluts and thigh with a stinging heat. During the workday, I was imprisoned by a ninety-degree angle, shifting in my desk chair and readjusting my hips without relief. I could not take a break or else I would fall behind. I kept working.

“Pain is a sign that something needs to change.”

The passage glowed, lifted itself from the page like a scene in a 3-D movie. Yes! There was a lesson here. There was a reason for this pain. If I could just find the right stretch or let go of my emotional burdens, the pain would lift and I’d be back on track again. I kept running.

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9 Honest Thoughts I’ve Had About Having Children That I’m Scared To Admit In Public

[This post was originally published by Thought Catalog at on June 2, 2015. To see the post in all of its Thought Catalog-y Glory, you can click here. Or just read on…]

Apparently, I am going to have a baby soon. No, this is not my “I’m knocked up!” announcement. If I was actually pregnant, I would obviously post something on Facebook so that you’d be the first to know.

A majority of my ideas regarding getting pregnant, being pregnant and having a baby are whispered to my husband with the preface, “Do Not Tell Anyone That I Feel This Way.”

Yet, here I am Telling Everyone That I Feel This Way.

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