Several of you have been curious about where the name GANDY came from, especially since it is nothing quite so odd as the hemlock tree’s genus that was the name of our recently-departed pup, Tsuga. I’ll take the lazy way out, and paste in a few paragraphs from “the book” that, at this rate, will be completed in less than a decade, with any luck: Before we had pets in our married life, I had plant in college–the first plant I ever thought of …

We Couldn’t Call Her “IT” Read more »

It is now official: I will not continue for an 8th year of writing for the Floyd Press or a 4th for Star Sentinel. It just seemed, for a long list of reasons, that the time had come to move on and do something else, liberated from the obligation of these mostly-energizing deadlines staring me in the face without a break now for more than 150 essays and grampa tales. That “something else” has fuzzy edges. I have two large writing projects vaguely in …

End of an Era: Beginning of… Read more »

This marks the first 48 hours with a new dog in the house, and only hours short of two weeks since Tsuga left us so suddenly on December 5, written out of this script and off this stage upon which he had performed his part with such ease, grace and joy. Gandy, the 9 week old understudy, has been tapped for a role she struggles to imitate, stepping into paws she could not possibly fill. Even so, she is a trooper, and after all, …

Gandy: Already Playing Her Part Read more »

Posts promise to be fewer and shorter than usual. We are under siege. The source is a bipolar pup, half barracuda, half Miss Congeniality, a chimera of canine good and evil. The snickersnack of the jaws: how to divert over and over into acceptable directions and towards acceptable approved objects: that is the challenge. Today will be our first solo run, just Gandy and me, all the live-long day. She did as well her second night as she did her first. We shouldn’t complain. It …

Eight Pounds of Pounce Read more »

We came home yesterday, as predicted, with one of the pups (on the left) in this picture. Her name is Gandy. Of the three we saw yesterday (playing in a grassy strip adjacent to the shopping center asphalt) her sister was too aggressive and always-on; her brother, too passive; and she was (we thought) just right. She has her moments of frenzied mouth-oriented crazies, and still only knows how to play with her litter-mates, full out, unrelenting, and teeth-first. After ten minutes of this, …

Gandy Has Entered the Building! Read more »