Workin’ On It

Once more before the screen, on an on-and-off rainy day. I’ve been trying to follow up on the good effect of a story sale and bulling my way through some stories that have been hanging fire for too long. What do I feel like doing instead? Well, not what’s below. I don’t fish. I would be one of those who would bring a book and fall asleep, probably get sunburnt, mosquito-bit, generally overheated, and with no fish to show for it because I wouldn’t really care.

But the sunshine would be nice. And a bit of placid surroundings. Don’t know about the audience, though…


This is Coffey.


Coffey is our very good friend. Our buddy. Coffey makes sure we remember to laugh, keeps us company (especially when she can do so on the bed) and forces us to take walks.

Coffey is about 15.

Yes, that’s correct. Fifteen. She’s healthy, just very slow these days. When we grab the leash, she bounds around our feet like a puppy. She’s good for about three blocks of all-out walking, then she slows to a snail’s pace and makes up for the distance with careful study of various leaves, stalks of grass, patches of concrete, and other smells. But she still gets excited about that walk.

I haven’t posted anything about her in a while and she’s gotten a bit camera shy lately—more can’t be bothered than any kind of misplaced vanity.

If we’re careful, we’ll have her for a while yet.

But she’s 15. I’m amazed.