Category: Pets

Pug Corner – Query Workshop

img_1304Frankie thinks the writer might be broken. It’s probably because of that stupid cat in the story she keeps reading to Frankie. If the writer would simply kill the cat, everything would be back on track and Frankie could be lazy again. As it now stands, the writer has spent a week crying about something called a query.

Ok, Frankie understands. Point me to the query and the pug will beat it up so that the writer can relax again. This simply must stop. The writer thinks the query is as a bad as a cat and has employed a “workshop” to fix it.img_1306

The Liverpool game is over and the writer’s team won. The workshop is over, but the writer still cries and bleats. There are a lot more of these games with the ball and the humans kicking the ball around to watch.

Humans do not know how to play with a ball, not at all. And yet, the writer has abandoned the couch and is back at her desk. The workshop is over, the writer said. Frankie does not understand any of this.

img_1309The writer says there is not any more time left to be lazy. What is wrong with her? It is raining. It is cold. The writer is here with Frankie. She should get on the couch and get with the program. Not all this gnashing of teeth and rending of garments.

Frankie is pretty sure that the writer’s query was not so bad that the writer will be hated by everyone.  The writer says her hopes and dreams are riding on this query. That’s plain silly. She has a pug. And if the query is that bad, Frankie will make it better. Everyone loves a pug. And they will love the writer because she is Frankie’s human. And now Frankie is exhausted and requires a nap. Until next time.

 

 

Pug Corner -Writing Day

img_1137Writing Days start out normal for Frankie. She wakes up the writer well before the alarm. She gets her walk -it’s still dark. Breakfast is served. All is well in the morning. Only, Frankie knows the writer will leave her for a long time. She is not certain where the human goes, but she does not like it. Even though her walker that comes at lunch is really nice.

But on writing day, things are different.  The writer doesn’t put on pants and go to work. She fires up her img_1127computer, turns on soft music, cuddles up Frankie, and stays home to write. Frankie can nap easy. This is wonderful. If only every day was writing day the way every night is writing night.

Just don’t tell the pug that it is also take the pug to the vet for shots day. Life is like that – take the sour with the sweet.

Pug Corner – Frankie at Twilight

sunset dusk twilight sky

At the end of every day, right before the last of the light fades from the sky, I take Frankie out for an evening stroll. Provided the weather is not against us. Frankie is not fond of the rain. In the late summer and early autumn, it is still warm here in the South, even as the days grow shorter.

Frankie looks forward to sniffing every blade of grass, marking every tree or sign post she comes to, barking at any squirrel, and greeting every dog and person she encounters with a full pug smile. This is a great way to end the day.

Most walks, while flights of fancy for my pug, are the same routine to me. I hope there won’t be too many people or dogs. Frankie forgets that she has business to attend to when there is someone to say hello too. I pray there won’t be rain. It makes for a long night if Frankie can’t take care of her business.

It was a twilight that we walked one night after moving into a city flat. There is a lot of bustle around us, cars passing, tall buildings, lots of shops and restaurants and a sports arena.

BuckThere is a lovely garden in front of our complex where we walk each evening. The property is lined with tall trees that separate us from the office park next door.

Nature feels controlled and industrialized here. Until a deer appeared. The big buck jumped out into the garden, turning a routine evening to wonder. It stopped and stared at me and my pug for only a moment.

Frankie did not even bark. It was so alien to her she could not decide what to do. She froze and then the majestic animal leaped away, over the shrubs between us and the next property bounding toward the river.

My mind wiped out the city around me and saw the buck in its natural habitat, a clear view from us to the river as it would have been had the city not been there. My dreams were odd that night. Frankie slept as she always does, soundly but for a few bouts of snoring, the magic of twilight gone. For the moment.

Pug Corner- Frankie and Monday Dreams

On Sunday, Frankie gets to go everywhere with me. Then Monday comes and I drudge off to my day job.

She naps. She barks at every sound and dreams of technicolored squirrels. I have no clue what Frankie would do with a squirrel if she was able to catch one but even my pug has delusions of grandeur.

I return home tired. Frankie has been napping all day and is eager to play. She assures me that getting to watch me write is not playing.

My dream is to create a successful fantasy series. Hers involves frolicking with rainbow squirrels. By bedtime Monday is everyday to Frankie and Sundays are long forgotten. Time means nothing to a pug.

Pug Corner – Frankie’s Sunday

Frankie does not understand about Sundays. Her human, a writer and educator, seems off and is still snoozing past 6 AM. Best do something about that.

Ever since I rescued my Frankie from a life on the streets, I have not been allowed to sleep in. I wouldn’t change it for anything. There is nothing quite like being gently awakened by a pug.

She is always surprised when I stick around after our walk and breakfast. She wishes everyday could be Sunday. Sometimes I do too.

Living an Alternative Reality

So this happened. The Chicago Cubs won the World Series. Donald Trump of The Apprentice is president of the United States (a joke made on The Simpsons in 1997- not even kidding), and The Atlanta Falcons are headed to the Super Bowl. 

This is not normal. Being from Georgia, I am thrilled about the Falcons. Just amazed, startled. Like everything that has happened in the last 12 or so months, this is simply not the expected result. All that has happened is not necessarily bad, just odd. Reality has crashed into the bizarre. 

Disturbedly, my current book, a fantasy full of magic and all sorts of mystical creatures is far less odd than the real world. It makes me worry for my genre. 

At this point, if dragons suddenly emerged and took over the world, it might be less insane than the current goings on in the world. And that would quite spoil my book sales. 

Frankie, my pug, also quite magical, tells me to relax. Probably, Frankie says, I am simply in purgatory and to move on to something more wondrous, I must keep writing. So that’s the plan. For now.

If I manage to finish this book, find an agent, and publish this year despite having to reside in bizarro world, then I will know I have moved on. So back at it. 

Week 45 2016 Furry Friends

So we are in the home stretch of 2016 which will be known as “The Year That Shall Not Be Named”  The best way to keep everything in perspective is our pets, the best of friends. Obviously. All decent people can unite around our precious furry friends. They never care who you love, who you vote for, or what you look like. They even forgive us our deplorable lack of fur. And they think everything we say is wonderful and important.

img_0186I emerge from a weekend of writing feeling hopeful. I did not much add to my word count, but I finally knocked my internal editor out until such time as December 1st emerges.  I think I will get this draft knocked out during NaNoWriMo. It will be rough but I have it on authority that December and January are excellent for editing. Take care everyone. Soldier on.