My Olive is a fetching mixed-breed, “junkyard dog”. Of the dogs I’ve loved, she reigns as queen of scent.
She invites the eye to witness nostrils’ draw, a primal sift of molecules suspended in air. Head steered by nose, body pulled by head, closer still in the carefully timed advance. A joyous pounce on prey in the playful dance of death.
Squirrel, mouse, or bird acts its part. Feigning death to bargain final escape, the prostrate prey is under a watchful eye.
A terrifying and fascinating horror plays out in my backyard.
Their album ‘Ten’. My kids were young. We sang along (loudly)…
” Jeremy spoke in claaaasssss today.”
Maybe a strange choice for this mother to share with her children, but dark as it was, Jeremy was fiction. In the real world, the Colorado school shootings and those to follow brought the grim reality of bloody school violence to my children’s doorstep.
The purpose of this is to expand transgender awareness, share information on health and fitness, and start discussions on societal ethics. It's also a way for my friends and family to stay updated on what's going on with me.