Something to Smile About

Every day there is something to smile about…well, mostly every day; family, friends, babies, memories, a full moon the night before, a squirrel looking for a handout at the door, playful puppies, skittish kittens, blessings by the number…smiling is good for the facial muscles.

Yesterday this picture was posted to my Facebook Timeline by one of my daughters. It really gave me something to smile about and I hope it stretches your facial muscles too.

You Be the Judge

Have you ever asked a departed loved one for a sign that they still exist somewhere?

The second love of my life died in 2007, after twenty-seven years together. We had shared a good life which included our pet Yorkshire terrier who was almost twenty years old when he went to doggie heaven.

I’m one of those cloud scanners…that is, always looking for meaningful cloud shapes, like angels for example. I’ve seen them along with elephants, ducks, pigs, whatever.

One day I silently asked Jerry to send me a cloud-shape of our beloved little Yorkie…just to satisfy my hunger for a sign.

It happened while visiting an out-of-town friend. We were enjoying a summer afternoon outdoors when I looked up and saw the distinct shape of my long deceased pet.

“Look at that cloud,” I exclaimed to my friend, “what does it look like to you?”

“Looks like a dog,” she said.

“Yes, but what kind?” I pressed, needing reassurance.

“Looks like a Yorkshire terrier,” she responded.

Need I say more? Of course I breathed a silent “thank you” and have carried that sign in my heart from that day to this. Who or what was I thanking..Jerry, God, the universe? You be the judge..

“Ask the Lord your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights.” Isaiah 7:11

Tomorrow: The double rainbow.

It’s a Doggie Dog World

Tyra 1

It never ceases to amaze me how we can hear the same words over and over in our lives and yet misinterpret them so profoundly. For instance, a young lady among my youngest son’s teenage friends had often heard her parents discussing the news as “it’s a dog eat dog world out there”. She really tickled us one day by referring to a particular news story, and drawing the conclusion that “it’s a doggie dog world out there”. Thinking of this memory brought to mind all the dogs that have touched my life in one way or another over the years, including beautiful Tyra, one of my nine grand-dogs who went to doggie heaven at Easter time this year, just before her fourteenth birthday. Thinking about all these pets reminded me of a poem I wrote back in 1974 when my own dog, Penny, was forever running away to play in a nearby stream. The  poem has nothing to do with that, though. I don’t even know how it inhabited my brain, but here it is.


I have this dog, his name is Moe

he follows me wherever I go.

While tackling my daily jog

I’m followed by this doggone dog!

He cramps my style

I tell him “Scram!”

But soon he reappears with Sam.

Sam is Moe’s best pal, you see

and now they both are dogging me.

At last I’ve done half a lap

but Moe and Sam have done the track.

Joined by Jigs along the way,

these dogs think I am out to play.

Now jogging isn’t play to me,

I take it very seriously,

until I looked around and found

we’d added quite a large greyhound.

Now Grey and Jigs and Sam and Moe

all follow me wherever I go.

It follows that I gave up jogging

and the dogs have had to give up dogging.

Now I sit at home and pine

for some good old dogless jogging time.


I’m aiming for a little humor today. Is anyone out there smiling?

Mr. Miracle

Mr. Chips was my pet goldfish. At five years old, he was the survivor of a twosome that I had named Fish and Chips, but Fish died and I began calling this guy Mr. Chips.

One Easter Sunday morning I went to feed Mr. Chips before going to church, but he was not in his bowl. Now how could that be? My first thought was that my tiny pet had gone to goldfish heaven, and someone had removed him from his bowl before I could discover his floating body. But no one had even looked in on the little goldfish. It then dawned on me that perhaps he had jumped out of the bowl–some fish are known to do that.  I got down on my hands and knees and searched the floor under the desk. There he was lying in a dust ball on the carpet!  His little body was quite dry when I picked him up, but as he lay in the palm of my hand I thought I detected a slight movement…could it be? Yes!  His tiny gill actually moved!

I slipped him back into his bowl. He floated on top of the water and then suddenly flicked his tail and began to swim, leaving tiny trails of dust behind. I scooped out the bits of dust, gave Mr. Chips his much-deserved breakfast and went to Easter Sunday service.

I arrived home two hours later and promptly checked in on my pet. He wasn’t there!

“Did anyone see Mr. Chips?” I cried.

Again, no one had looked in on him. I got down on all fours once more, looking for my fish and there he was, for the second time, lying lifelessly under the desk. Just as the time before, I could see a tiny flicker of life, and gently slipped him back into his bowl. I watched hopefully as he again swam the dust off his little gold body.

As I observed Mr. Chips regain his life force for the second time that Easter morning, I knew I had to change his name to Mr. Miracle. That little guy lived another five years and never jumped out again.

That’s my fish story–what’s yours?

Even the Bible has a few great fish tales!



A Pet Named Zoe

So many pets had come and gone in my life, that I vowed not to have another one after our last pet, “Kelly, the dog”, went to doggie heaven. It just hurt too much to lose them. Such was not the case, as this next chapter will reveal.

Chapter Twenty Seven  –  A Pet Named Zoe

Zoe was no ordinary cat. She was born in a fishing shack on the shores of Victoria Harbor in Hong Kong, the last of a litter of six kittens waiting for a home.

Two old fishermen had looked after the kittens since they were born, and they were not pleased to have one left.

Zoe was always underfoot, sniffing out the fish. With a shrug of their bony shoulders, the fishermen decided to get rid of her. She’d make a good meal for someone.

A little girl who had just arrived in Hong Kong from Canada was looking for a pet. Amberley, a slender, blond youngster with legs like a colt, and a frisky personality to match, was walking with her parents and siblings, getting to know their new surroundings, when they saw the fishing shack in the distance. Curious, Amberley scurried ahead to check out this strange looking building. Her parents called words of caution after her. The child poked her head in to investigate the shack, and heard, meow, meow, meow.

“Mom! Dad!” she squealed in delight, “over here, quickly, please!”

….some people have entertained angels….(Hebrews 13:2)

Tomorrow  –  A Mouse in the House  –  A Lesson in Resignation