Sheeps… Or Things to Do While Mourning
Mister, who is the voice of conservative reason and common sense, looks me in the eye. What starts as socializing...
Totally Quanked and in Search of Our Own Personal Pickleball
Yes, it's a proper word. I didn't make it up, but I wish I had. Quanked is in the 1893...
Horsewoman, Has Your Neighborhood Gone to the Dogs?
I traipsed across Minnesota and North Dakota through factory farms and cemeteries this summer. Trying to link childhood memories with...
Falling in Love All Over Again for the First Time
Coming home, the washboard road is as close to a drumroll as we'll get. We are bleary-eyed and dog-tired. I...
Traveling to the Cemetery of My People, Part One
Mister is barking in a steady rhythm. His metronome bark. Consider it a warning siren. He knows. There is a...
Jolene Says, Doesn’t My Title Entitle Me to Something?
Jolene expects that we will have an adventure every single day. Mister hopes we don't. He likes to keep it...
Jolene Just Knows the One Word
I'm starting to look like Garrison Keillor. You know, if I dyed my hair brown. I'm not bragging, just stating...
Mister Shares A Health Tip That Dogs Know
The farrier came this week. Every year or so, he suggests I quit my day job and hold horses for...
Egads. Now We’ve Received a Complaint From a Cat
We have received a complaint from a cat in England. Rita says she reckons you cannot trust a woman who...
Mister and Jolene. Taking Drugs and Counting Sheep.
It's a sight to see. Usually, a huge bearded man and a tiny Chihuahua. Sometimes a blue-haired lady and a...
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