I believe my dog is American, but boy does he hate the Fourth of July.
As the celebration of our nation’s independence approaches next week, we’ll enjoy with barbecues, parades and cold drinks. And as night approaches, those dreaded fireworks will light up the sky. . READ
In January 2004, a headline in The Suffolk Times caught my attention: “Eight Degrees – eight Pups.” Under the headline was a picture of a dog nursing her litter of puppies. The photo was captioned: “Amazing Grace, a story of survival and resilience.” READ
The moment Calverton resident Chris Padden said two words, “Go find,” Keli, an 8-year-old Belgian Malinois, barked and bounded into the brush off Parkers Road, not far from Grumman Memorial Park, sniffing as she went. READ
Hudson, a 12-year-old dachshund, died last April. (Credit: Charity Robey)
Last April, our beloved dachshund, Hudson, died. He was 12, which is pretty old in dog years, as they say.
My husband suggested we wait a year before we started sniffing around for a new dog, “out of respect.” I thought this was a strange idea, but now that a year has passed, I can see some good has come of waiting. No good for Hudson alas, but waiting has helped me understand what that long, black dog meant to me. (more…)