They gave me a gold star.
“Wanda!”
“Wanda, don’t do that!”
“Wanda!!!!!!”
“Wanda, come inside!”
“Wanda, you’re a good girl.”
“Where’s Wanda?”
“Wanda, do you want a treat?”
“Spit it out, Wanda!”
“Wanda!!!
“Wanda, sit!”
“Wanda, get out of the bathroom trash!”
“Wanda, come here!”
“Wanda, want to go outside?”
“Wanda, we love you.”
Our search for a new canine family member came to an end quickly. Of course, Baylee was on it like sweetness on a honeycrisp apple, but the discovery was actually made by me and by accident on social media.
While scrolling through my Facebook feed the day after I wrote that post, I saw a female shepherd on a local rescue site. She reminded me of my David. They both show their energy in their eyes, and she was six months old so the potty training and chewing up stuff would almost be over for her, so I filled out an application.
Continue reading “Like a Nail in the Head. Day 92.”People used to refer to a widow in town by her marital status when they addressed her. For example, they would have called me The Widow Adams. I’m happy times have changed. The word widow may make one think of an elderly lady with white hair, a few whiskers, and a cat on her lap. The word is in books, real life, and on the big screen.
Continue reading “Day Eight”
Teresa Forester Adams 