Oba is gone back to North Carolina, and even the inmates can feel the change in the air. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, is piled into the one king-sized bed, which resembles an insane game of canine Tetris. You know that strip of stitching that circumnavigates the top edge of the mattress? I've always wondered as to its purpose, and tonight it was revealed to me: it was designed with me in mind, to be…

1 Waylon 3:16, "it's time to get back to the basics of love", so I mosey out to my spot on the back porch of the Casa. I was severely delusional if I thought I was going to get any alone time, as the feathered little fartbags were already out there draining the feeders, and the inmates were prancing around me like a Kansas City chorus line in a mad contest to determine who could…

As I'm going to be a bit incognito over the next two weeks, starting a new career and all that, I figured that I would go out with a "bang", so to speak. Thanks to the kindness of others I have a great opportunity before me and i am thankful. but Charlie's story is where my heart lies. One of these days maybe it will be self supporting, but so far, it has not, so…

Dad here; today, mom, Marco and I are heading north into the land where a "Coke" is called a "pop". We are on our way to Illinois for the unexpected funeral of one of the finest men I've ever known, my brother, Junior Daves. When we received word that he had died in his sleep, I was alarmed that I actually felt no grief; there are much worse ways to go than passing away gently.…

Mom is enroute from North Carolina to the Casa to escape Hurricane Dorian, but is inseta bringing with her Hurricane Titus and tropical storm Oba; dad and I are making the necessarily last minute preparations. We have our evacuation route planned in case inland flooding makes cohabitation impossible; stay tuned for the latest weather updates as these storms move slowly but inexorably westward. Dad and I were out buying emergency supplies yesterday when we heard…

I did a very bad thing... Something so heinous that I had to wait until I had reached the ripe old age of fifty-seven to stoop to the level of debauchery that was achieved last night. And did this happen in the bedroom? Oh no, an act this reprehensible must take place in a suitable place, in this case, the garage. I slept with a cat. Don't judge me too harshly, although the dogs all…

Does it ever stop? The stories keep coming so hard and fast that I can't keep up with them; I have great news from Last Chance Rescue concerning Lady Madonna and her octet of nipple magnets, but that will have to wait... I walked out on the back porch to check the hummingbird feeders, er, to swat the little ingrates away, when I heard a kitten crying. Cats are not a common occurence around the…