And the hits keep coming ....

Wow.

This month my website is on track to receive more than 100,000 hits.

From the stats kept my my web host, you're reading the blog in some 68 nations, some of which I've never heard of before, but I'm learning more about them.

FYI, I'm asking my webmaster to attach a translator to the page so you can click it to translate the blog into your primary language if it's not English. Much of the credit for this website goes to him. John Beresford (himself a novelist, lyricist, poet and singer) has been working hard and valiantly on this website to help inform, inspire and empower you for many years.

It's very exciting, and I'm thrilled to think you're interested in what I'm thinking or writing or doing or how I write or-- why ever it is you tune in.

Thanks for your kind attention. The stats also say you download many of the photos I use, especially of my pets.

Here's a snapshot of JR at my Master Writers' retreat recently. I had him trimmed to keep him cool for the summer, but when temperatures drop he needs a little shirt to keep him warm.

I'm not into the whole put clothes on your dog so they'll look cute thing. It's just a practical matter and to keep him warm and healthy.

He got his white shirt filthy and wet playing for hours with his BFF Winston, a French Bulldog puppy; I took it off to pull on his clean red shirt so he wouldn't get cold.

Everyone was blown away at what a terrific, well-behaved, quiet and snugly little guy he is.

Here's Allie Cat being regal. For a moment there is peace and tranquility. Then, suddenly:





Allie Cat attacks JR and they wrestle. This happens at least twice a day. They chase each other back and forth, in and out of the house to slap a half nelson on each other.

Mistletoe referees.

<-Here, Allie and an untrimmed JR wrestle. They remind me of Inspector Clouseau and his manservant in Blake Edwards' A Shot in the Dark, surprising each other when they least expect to be assaulted.

For some reason, Allie never extends her claws or bites, and JR never gets rough with her. Such happy little souls. I just wish they'd learn to take out the garbage or wash dishes or dust or at least re-make the bed after they've been wrestling on it...

Thank you again for reading my blog and checking out my website - feel free to comment!

Oscar's Farewell

Life Savers

by Colleen Patrick

He came into my life
All four pounds
Enduring so much strife
Damned puppy mill grounds

Nearly twelve years ago I was
I was low as low could be
Anti depressants and all because
A futile depression enveloped me

Don’t ask me why
When this little guy
Caught my eye
I couldn’t say good-bye

A soul encompassing my own
That wee sable pup
So angry, vicious and alone
Except with me - he completely warmed up

In the car – his very first drive
He couldn’t get close enough
He was so sweet, he seemed to thrive
Alas, with others he would only act tough

We arrived home
With nary a bone
But he didn’t moan
He got an ice cream cone

Eight months old
Living years of neglect
And misery untold
Memories he’d forever reflect

I took him to a vet
Who told me to forget
Him - "Get a healthy pet
He’s a wreck -" and yet

Despite his horrendous mind/body plight
So much that couldn’t ever be made right
The one thing I couldn’t fight
Between him and me? It was love at first sight

And so I struggled for two years
To train my little social misfit
Whose temper sent fears
Into grown men with grit

He became a perfect gentleman
Walking proudly around the lake
People even became fans
Stopping us for pictures to take

He was the IT factor
And a smile magnet
Not a single detractor
Where ever we went

All the games we played
And his farts – oy vey!
Wallpaper peeled
Noses needed a shield

When did he get old
I really don’t want to recall
He started falling in the cold
Then one day couldn’t walk at all

I don’t mind carrying him around
All five and a half pounds
This little furry mound
His shirt pulled down

Those eyes have somehow lost a light
Though he watches me every waking minute
Those big brown eyes once clear and bright
So loving, his heart has reached its limit

As he moves around, he limps and he trips
His little heart murmurs, his neck and hips
Rife with arthritis; his aging bladder drips
His seizures frequent, as he stands, he slips

I can’t let him live in pain or misery
Oblivious as he is - as long as he’s with me
I hold him closer now for it's the end I see
Instead of once I kiss him three

Sweet Pomeranian kisses
They number in the millions
His head against my cheek
There were not many misses

Ah the stories I could tell
Of the little wild man I tamed
And the reason that I named
Him Oscar

Being a director and screenwriter
I thought my future would be brighter
When asked if I have an Oscar thirst
I smile and say I already have my first

I shall weep inconsolably just for today
I can’t bear the thought of being without him
Or empty nights I can’t pet or play
With my smiling furry boy at my slightest whim

But this isn’t about me, it’s for him I pray
So his final days will be filled with joy
And laughter and cuddles – we’ll pah-tay
So he can leave this earth one happy little boy

I will only say au revoir, I cannot say adieu
I’ll snuggle him tight as he takes his last breath
The last words he’ll hear will be simply thank you
I'm right here, loving you at your time of death