After multiple treatments, Moses still smelled like skunk around his eyes and muzzle. I couldn’t put any of the harsher treatments near his eyes, so we went with the old-fashioned method of tomato paste.
Moses made it quite clear that this was beneath his dignity, but after he had wiped his face on Pete and splattered tomato paste all over Auggie, he contented himself with licking off some of the residue. He got several very big pieces of chicken for his patience. And he actually smells better too.
Meanwhile, I think we have his Halloween costume in the bag.
Sith warrior, anyone?
QUICK NOTE: If you would like to read my first novels in preparation for the release of the third in the series, Robert’s Rules, next spring, they are both on sale for $1.99 each on Kindle this month.
As both of my readers know, when I am writing a book, the blog gets short shrift. A couple of weeks ago, however, I had an experience which may be of interest: I went to Pete and Fiona’s wedding.
My novels (Available at Amazon, and also here, Barnes and Noble here and here, Target here and here, Walmart here and here, or at your favorite booksellers, for example, here, here, here, here, and here. I’ll wait.) feature the story of Fiona Campbell, a Chicago reporter who moves to Washington Island on a dare. That’s all I’m going to say.
But by an extraordinary coincidence, a couple whose names are Fiona and Peter got married at the island property where I write my books. Susan, my landlady, made sure I knew about it, and the couple were gracious enough to invite me.
It was a perfect summer day. The bride and groom were beautiful, kind, and clearly in love. Everyone was happy.
Just thought you’d like to know.
Don’t get any ideas.
Rest in Peace Barbara Ruth.
April 15, 1920–August 15 2017
Holy God, Heavenly Father.
I beg of You to forget the world. Forget that we sit on the brink of war and chaos. Forget that the last best hope of Mankind sits under the power of the unworthy. Lord God, Most Holy, Creator of Heaven and Earth, please sit with Barbara Ruth. Let her know Your love. Let her feel Your comfort. Let the embrace of Your angels surround and protect her in her fear and pain. Love her. Hold her in Your love, and let those of us who love her, too, comfort her in every possible way. In Jesus’ name I pray that I may be an instrument to her peace. Please, God, let me be a blessing to her, and let her know that she is not alone.
And, as always:
Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your Angels charge over those who sleep. Give rest to the weary, Lord Christ. Soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, bless the dying, and shield the joyous, all for Your love’s sake.