Yorkie puppy named Neo © Lynette M Burrows 2017

We Interrupt this Blog. . . .

Sometimes Life gets in the way of creation. Life with a capital “L.” I’ve had more of those interruptions in the past ten years than there are flowers in the field. Yes, that’s a slight exaggeration. Unfortunately, it’s only a slight exaggeration. Today, though, the interruption is fun! Last Sunday we brought a new puppy home. I’d like to introduce you to Neo. He’s a purebred Yorkshire Terrier, eight weeks old, and a little shy of two pounds in this picture. He’s a bundle of joy and energy. (I’d forgotten how much energy a puppy has and takes!) He’s adapted to his new life and family well. He slept through his first night (and each one thereafter). He loves to snuggle with the stuffed dog we got him. (The blanket is from Motley Kennels–thank you!)  Our two older yorkies sleep in the crate next to his. They are adapting, too. They are old enough they don’t appreciate the puppy’s energy and are jealous of the attention he gets. They try to avoid him and at the same time get equal attention from me and hubby. But when they’re sleeping, their buddies. lol In addition to the new pup, I’ve been […]

A Void in My Heart

Sometimes there is a loss that leaves a void in your heart.  This void isn’t the worst kind of loss: the loss of a parent, a sibling, or child.  Rather, it’s the loss of a four-legged companion with whom you shared a lifetime. We suffered that kind of loss in my home this past weekend.  It’s left a void in my heart. If you are a pet lover, you understand.  If you are not, you have my permission to skip over this post     I’ve had pets most of my life.  And since pets lives are short, I have outlived many pets.  There are some pets, though, whose presence comes to mean far more than just companionship.  My miniature schnauzer, Nemo, was one such pet.  I’m including a snippet of one of my morning pages that explains a little of why Nemo’s presence was so very special in my life. Morning Pages 3/17/12:  As I write this, Nemo’s labored breathing fills my ears. Tears well up and my heart aches. I’m losing him. I feel guilty for the pain I think he must be suffering. Yet, he still eats, he still plays with his toys, and he still guards the […]