Instead he took to running excitedly around our legs, still attached to his harness and lead, barking madly, like there was a cat in the field, demanding more treats. Which of course he did not get.
Instead he took to running excitedly around our legs, still attached to his harness and lead, barking madly, like there was a cat in the field, demanding more treats. Which of course he did not get.
Nationally Syndicated Editorial Cartoonist
Letters from the women in my family to their mothers from 1910-1980.
The art of losing
The Life and Times of a retired Soldier, Boxer, Pilot, Husband, Father and Grandfather
tales of untruths
My adventures in trail running and awkward socials
A site by Clemens P. Suter
Dear Diary... 