The Protection Racket

I wander into the bedroom and find Maisie, as per usual, curled up in a small, compact ball, her chin on the heap that is my standard t-shirt and cargo shorts, carelessly thrown there after our morning walk. Her sumptuous tail is wrapped around her, its tip grazing her nose. When she sees me, her …

It’s Not You, It’s Me.

A few weeks ago, when I was having a particularly rough morning all on my own (without any help from Maisie) we encountered another dog on our morning walk. We were on a section of the trail that stretches long and straight, with a decent site line, and I could see the dog from pretty …