The other day my husband out of a clear blue sky told me to blog about how I love my dogs more than him. He wasn't angry or judgmental, just resigned. It sounds terrible, I know, especially when you write it down and use a comparative conjunction to emphasize how big a deal it is. I'm stalling, however. The truth is-my husband is right. His greatest blunder? He's not an animal. As a kid, I would agonize if my ginger neutered male didn't come in the house when I called him. Depending on your age, you may recall that those were the days when most owners let their cats wander in the immediate neighborhood. As a result, they often came back injured by cat fights, wet from rain or snow, or pregnant. Or sometimes they didn't come back at all. I don't know why we made that decision to let them free roam, but since my parents ruled, I had to go along with it as well. Many was the night when I tearfully went to bed hoping against hope that my cat would be there hungr
The times of my life. A look into the experiences of a fully functioning adult with mental, domestic, and marital problems. From the perspective of a childfree person. Ha-ha funny but truthful. On Twitter, Facebook and G+