Oh, the “quick chomp the hidden candy bar while he’s in the shower, than panic drink water so it isn’t stuck to your teeth” thing. Yep.

A more wrong statement has never been uttered.

One of my biggest issues with having my partner around ALL OF THE TIME has been that I can’t comfort eat in front of him, which is my main coping mechanism. I found myself waiting for him to go to bed and telling him I’m just tidying up the kitchen while I stuff my face full of cookies or ice cream or whatever I can…

At soon 55 now, I managed to make truce with the world (somewhat) at 50, when I decided to enter the Blessed Kingdom of IDGAF. Nice place if you can get to it (Before you move in the town of Where yer hurtin’... sadly the only town around).

Every one in my house gained a bunch of weight during quarantine. Probably because we actually, you know, stayed home (unlike a lot of people we know). But am I going to hop on the intuitive eating wagon and learn to love my body the way it is? Hell no, I'm going to go back to counting calories and exercising because…

Yeah, your kid isn’t going to figure out healthy eating on their own, he’s a kid. My parents let me eat whatever I wanted when I was a kid, we’d have cases upon cases of pop in our house at all times, along with a bunch of unhealthy snacks. I didn’t change my eating habits until I was almost 30 and I still slide back…

I couldn’t taxidermy my boos. For me it would be hanging on to the wrong part of them: Peanut’s crazed love of carbs, demanding fat tail when he’s smashing your hands with his head for pets, and little pink nose; Harvey’s insane 5 am yowling like a little furry banshee, his obsession with shredding paper, his…

“my old boyfriend”

I mean this gently, but perhaps in your pet’s soul, she would prefer that you donate that thousand dollars in her name to one of the many deserving animal shelters or humane societies in the country. And you could keep up with news of all of the good her memory is accomplishing there. It might just be transformative.

The costs of good taxidermy are astronomical. I would never do it. I still keep my last dog’s ball at the foot of the stairs where it always used to roll when he left it laying around. I keep his collar on a nail beside the fireplace mantel and give it a shake every now and again to remind me of him. My heart broke on…

I wanted to taxidermy my dog... I was set on it when she was cute and young looking. Now she is DEF looking old at 13 (Havanese)... moles... missing fur... bloated belly from Cushings... missing teeth. Taxiderming her now would be the ugliest conversation piece known to man. I still love her even though she is a…

I had to say goodbye to my beloved St. Dane (great dane/st bernard mix) back in January after 15 years together. I rescued her when she was just 6 months old and had already been through 4 different homes. She was huge but wanted to be a lapdog so badly, she had to settle for plunking her ass on your feet or slowly…

Was your dog my first husband? They sound very much alike.

It’s almost as if women and young girls are considered expendable, so long as the men who abuse them have even an modicum of talent with which to distract the public... because no matter how much evidence one can present, “WE DON’T KNOW WHAT REALLY HAPPENED.” And, “WHY WOULD SHE BE ALONE WITH HIM IF SHE DIDN’T WANT…

One would hope that the magic number for teams being willing to treat a franchise quarterback as toxic would be under 22.

Here’s what a Mama’s boy he is now. I was rushing around this morning, making his green beans and chicken for his snacks and treats and didn’t have time to sit on the sofa with him for a few minutes after breakfast.

My Very Good Lady was a rescue, half brindle pit bull, half German shepherd, and she was surrendered FOUR times in one year... because she was a hyper puppy, and large, and assholes didn’t understand that you DON’T leave a rescue by themselves the very same day that you bring them home, and don’t return drunk, after 4…

My Buddy would snap at me occasionally the first six months or so after I adopted him. I don’t know a lot about the previous owners, but I do know when I got him from the rescue, who pulled him from Animal Care and Control where he was dumped, his coat had been so matted they had to cut it short, he had a cracked…

I keep thinking that we don’t know Major’s past - who his people are, why they surrendered him, if he wasn’t treated well, etc... Poor guy might have some underlying trauma.

Shelter Catstravaganza!