Rainy Day Writing

Writing, Reading, Inspirations and Aspirations

Tag Archives: Dogs

Rainy Day Writing: Gratitude

Sometimes the sound of the rain pelting the roof at night feels like an assault. Watching it slosh off the roof edge and into the gutters all day is cause for more frustration. Where are the sunny days? Or even the sun-breaks?–those moments of reprieve that turn the lawn into a glittering green shag carpet …

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When the Nocturnal’s Come Out

I like the dark side of the day. When the planet turns it’s face, at least the side I inhabit, away from the sun. Things change. People go inside, traffic dies down, the heat subsides, and the nocturnals come out again. Of course, I also like to sleep. But that isn’t always easy around here. …

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Attacked by Kittens: A Cricklewood Road Tale

When a cat stares at me I imagine it saying “I’ll bet you taste like tuna.”

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The Night Belongs to Us

  It’s ten thirty at night and the old man and dog are asleep. Just as the night owl in me wants to spread it’s wings and start flying. It kind of makes me crazy how early they go to bed around here. I am not a morning person. I don’t even really feel awake …

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Disenfranchised in My Own Living Room

©2016 by Ilona Elliott I don’t sit in the living room much anymore. The reality of this was made clear to me today when I walked over to the couch and grabbed the remote to turn off the TV, and caught the lovely late afternoon light playing on the cobwebs that had formed on my …

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Slack Slack Slack They Call Him the Slacker

I told him it was a dog pancake for him because it was Valentines Day, and he laughed and said “It’s Valentines Day??”

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Fat Dog, Fat Mommy: The Shameful Truth

we switched to a high quality slightly less expensive chicken and rice food with one of those wholesome sounding names–Whole Earth Farms or some other such nonsense. It sounded nice. Of course we knew it was not produced on a dog friendly hippy commune farm in sunny California, but most likely in a dog food plant in the industrial section of some mid-western town, hopefully NOT named Flint, but it sounded nice.

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Anna Quindlen on dogs….

“The life of a dog is not much of a mystery, really. With few exceptions, he will be who he has always been. His routine will be unvarying and his pleasures will be predictable–a pond, a squirrel, a bone, a nap in the sun. It sounds so boring, and yet is is one of the …

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