THE SWEETEST DOG STORY EVER

The other day I stopped by to see Ann, an acquaintance of mine, for it had been a year since I had seen her. Men were outside painting her house and things were quite busy as well as hectic—outside that is.  After ringing her doorbell, I was first greeted by two dogs and then she appeared with saying “Come inside!” As I went inside, I couldn’t help but notice that the larger of the two dogs was not the same one I’d seen last year. Really I didn’t want to blurt out “What happened to your other dog?” but it just happened that I did.

With a sad look on her face, Ann told me “My larger dog passed away eight months ago.”  “I’m so sorry; I know how that hurts” was my response. “It was terrible but so much worse for my little dog Molly: She wouldn’t eat and was grieving over losing her best buddy. It went on for several months.” That part I understood full well for there was more than one time I had two dogs at the same time and one had died—and grief I saw in my other dog.

“Where did you get this dog?” I asked. “Lucy?” she asked me. “I love that name for a dog; fits her” was my reply. “Well this is how it happened: I decided to take Molly with me to the shelter and see if she would choose a dog that she liked: We went from cage to cage and then Molly stopped and sat down. Wouldn’t move. She was nose to nose [through the cage] with the larger dog. I know it sounds strange, but not only did Molly know that it was the right dog for us but so did I and that was the day we brought “Lucy” home with us.

As my dog came from the very same shelter, I knew that the dog had not been named “Lucy” by the workers but then maybe so. “Was that her name at the shelter?” I asked. “No” she said smilingly “and I changed her name when we got home.” “Do you remember  when I got Rufus at the shelter that he had been named Louie?” Ann just smiled and then said “I remember that well.”

I looked at Lucy and she was so pretty: Large, some brown on her face but the rest of her was pure white. “Somehow she looks like a Jack Russell in her face but then…” and I stopped. “She’s a mix of who knows what” said Ann. By this time Lucy was right by my hand wanting to smell dog on me [yes my dog smell was on me,] and then I petted her on the head. Was Molly nearby? Molly was standing right beside her best buddy. I should add that Molly is small and a mixture of poodle and who knows what else?

I thought to myself how lucky Lucy was to find such a wonderful home with a wonderful owner and a pal named Molly, and all amid French furniture. “Now it just doesn’t get any better than that, I thought to myself. Not one iota.”

All of a sudden Ann asked me if I’d go outside with her to check to see it the painters missed any places: I gladly told her I would. Before I knew it Ann was out the back door with the two dogs and I couldn’t find them. “Ann!” I hollered. I wasn’t greeted by Ann, but by Lucy—it was as if she was the official in charge for she stopped and then walked slowly in front of me, so that I would find not only Ann but Molly as well.

“She’s one amazing dog” I said and Ann replied “Yes she is just that.” Both of us checked to see if the painters had missed any places but the sun was glaring: It was hard for me to tell if there were any or not as I’d left my sunglasses inside her house. Ann did find several places that were missed but that was all; on my part, I was amazed at what a wonderful job the painters were doing. “I wish I had you both to have painted my house when it was remodeled” I told them. They just smiled. “I’m serious; you should see how it looks” and I ended it with those words as well as a smirk on my face.

“Let’s go inside” said Ann. I was so glad to be able to sit down after we entered her house. “Would you like something cold to drink?” “I’d love it” I said. Holding a big glass of cold iced tea was Nirvana; drinking it was all the better.  “You know” I said “it just doesn’t get any better than this—being with a friend and her two dogs amid all this beautiful furniture is wonderful. “ “Why thank you” Ann replied “and I feel the very same way.”

When it was time for me to depart, I went to my car and looked back and thought how miraculous it was for a friend to take her grieving dog to find a dog for a buddy, and even better that her dog found the right one by choosing Lucy. In the back of my mind, I wished I had done that at one time or another but it never entered my mind—ever. Also I couldn’t help but think that Lucy knew a good owner when she saw Ann, and a best buddy when she saw Molly.

To me, this was the sweetest dog story ever, and I will make more frequent trips not only to see Ann, but to see the two dogs that maybe chose each other or it not, Molly had good taste plain and simple. On my way home I did nothing but smile all the way about what I’d heard and what I’d seen for love knows no boundaries—all it takes is a trip and finding it.

Sherry Hill

Copyright © 2018

Sherry Hill

All Rights Reserved

*Pic of dog paw prints from Microsoft Word

“ICE CREAM WITH CAKE?” UH NO!

Everyone’s been to a gazillion birthday parties, but today’s generation of kids have no idea what it was like a long time back. A gallon of ice cream used to come in an oblong cardboard box and yes, it was put in the freezer until someone wanted it. There were only three choices of ice cream: Vanilla, chocolate and Neapolitan and the latter, was the choice of moms to serve at their children’s birthday parties.

Neapolitan was three kinds of ice cream together in a rainbow-like pattern of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate in layers and it all tasted the same regardless of there being three flavors or so it was said. I never tasted a single flavor but a combo of something unidentifiable.

I know all too well because every single birthday party I attended as a kid or even as a teenager, that tri-colored ice cream was served smack beside a slice of birthday cake. It seems that people thought the only way to slice it was to make it about three inches thick, and then plop it right beside a skinny piece of birthday cake.

Worse was that if the weather were warm, all kids and/or teenagers were sent outside with their paper plates loaded with that ice cream and the teeny piece of birthday cake—and the paper plate seemed to cave in from the sheer weight of the ice cream. Oh and that ice cream melted and ran all over the birthday cake making the cake all slimy and infiltrated with the three colors. I was lucky if I got one bite of the edge of the cake as were most kids and that wasn’t a good thing at all.

And the same continued for years and years it seemed: One slither of a piece of birthday cake and a heavy helping of that horrid ice cream—that is until more ice cream flavors arrived on the scene [they were and had been available at places that specialized in ice cream but nowhere else,] and yet, as always, the mother of the person celebrating a birthday, always plopped the ice cream right beside the cake while never asking “Would you like ice cream with your cake or not?” That question was never asked. Ever.

So many past birthday parties seemed the same and when it came time for mine one year, I asked my mom if she’d ask my friends if they wanted ice cream beside their cake.  She got a shock when she heard too many say “I don’t want any beside my cake but thanks.” No, they knew that it took over the cake and also it melted.

Forward in time and at any given time, birthday party or not, I refuse to have ice cream beside my cake—any kind of ice cream and any kind of cake but the one ice cream I won’t touch is that horrid Neapolitan —too many past bad memories of it.

I love cake and love ice cream but not touching: I am not OCD but remember all too well the past and so, I’ll take my separately if you should ask me. Smile.

Sherry Hill

©  Copyright 2018

All Rights Reserved

*Photo from Microsoft Word

'DREARY WEATHER MAKES ME SAD."

I'm not sad in that with my other post, I am happy in that I've written another Amazon Kindle E book which I shared with you--but the weather here has been either rainy or dreary of late. The sun has shown maybe a total of 6 days in over a month. Those gray dreary days seem to sap any "get up and go" that I have and it affects me into days of accomplishing about nothing.

Do those dreary days affect you as well?

Granted here right now it's in the 40's temperature-wise but it's another gray day with no sun shining.

And we've had too much rain--way more than any past February in years and yes, I know it's now March, Daffodils are in bloom as it the forsythia and my yard is full of clumps of "wild onions"--well they're called that or "wild garlic." Of the latter, I always go outside, yank some up and smell that onion-like smell and why? I always have even as a kid and still do plus I like that smell. Aside from that and picking daffodils and forsythia to bring inside, the dreariness continues here.

I suppose [as I always do,] that things could be far worse: I could be living in a country that has monsoons , one that has constant snow.or one that has months of darkness and perhaps I shouldn't complain. Shouldn't complain that March is also a month with a mind of its own for to me, it's downright fickle.........too windy, sunny, rainy or an off and on snowstorm. In fact , there is snow in our forecast but as to how much we shall receive is uncertain--just like March.

I got off tangent which is one of my biggest faults, for I was talking about dreary days and the sadness they bring  and not the month of March even if it does seem to fall into that category in a way. Hope you're smiling. :)

On this very day I have accomplished a lot but it's been in the form of making phone calls, appointments ,and the disgusting job of paying the ever monthly utility bills. But have I been outside as of yet? That answer would be a definite "No." But the day isn't over yet so that might change.

Days like this and those I spoke of are a part of life, and not much can be done about them except cope. Google what Mark Twain said of weather for he said in so many words..."A great deal has been said about the weather but not much has been done about it" and oh, he was so right.

Maybe today will turn out to be not so dreary: Who knows?

Meanwhile, my feelings are the same about days like this.

Sherry Hill

© Copyright 2018

All Rights Reserved

Sherry Hill

*Photo from Microsoft Word

Greetings from far far away.

I cannot believe I haven't been on here since before Christmas and yet it does seem a long time. Christmas came and went in a whoosh, and in January we were bombarded with snow. Instead of writing, I switched to painting [both are my greatest loves] and during the dreary days of January and February I painted over 20 paintings--some good and some "so so."

Ah but I did sneak in a new Amazon Kindle E book, as it was a story that needed told and I was the only one who could write it. And write it I did. Although I had recanted this story to my sons it is now available for anyone to read.

It's odd but when I write, I think of more stories and then the painting gene kicks in and throws me off kilter--maybe if you do both, you know exactly what I mean. It's a double edged sword of what to choose and I can't do both at the same time.

This newest Amazon Kindle E book is dear to my heart for many reasons: I can only hope that you experience the joy that the main character, Phoebe,felt the sorrow and the...I won't spoil the ending for you.

Again I apologize for being so lax in blogging. I will be on here more frequently: That 's a promise.

And should you decide to read my latest book, a sincere thanks to all of you!


https://www.amazon.com/His-Cigars-SB079NFHJMB/ref=sr_1_1herry-Hill-ebook/dp


Sherry Hill

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All Rights Reserved
Sherry Hill


*Photo from Microsoft Word