It was the week after Thanksgiving. My dog, Juniper, had somehow gotten into the trash—don’t ask me how, she’s part Houdini. For three days, her…
My dog, Finnegan, has a sworn enemy. It’s not the mailman. It’s not the vacuum cleaner. It’s broccoli. Every time a floret falls on the…
My dog, Juniper, has many talents. She can catch a treat mid-air. She can open a cabinet with her nose. She can ignore me completely…
It was July. The kind of July where the pavement sizzles and the air conditioner runs until it begs for mercy. My dog, Finnegan, had…
It was 10:47 PM on a Tuesday. I had worked late, eaten cold pasta over the sink, and just wanted to collapse. My dog, Juniper,…
It was a lazy Sunday. Rain tapping the windows. Coffee brewing. My dog, Finnegan, was doing his best impression of a rug—flat on his back,…
My dog, Juniper, is not a picky eater. She has eaten a napkin. She has eaten a sock (we don’t talk about that vet bill).…
It was December 24th. The turkey was brining. The cookies were cooling. The relatives were due in two hours. And my Golden Retriever, Finnegan, was…
Bear has always been a picky eater when it comes to his regular meals, but treats? That’s a different story. One evening, after yet another…
It was one of those sweltering August afternoons when turning on the oven felt like a punishment. Bear was sprawled across the cool kitchen floor,…