Every Day is a Holiday
17 March 2014
Years ago, I heard a WW II veteran say, “Every day is a holiday.” At my house, that’s true.
Not long after Gus, a puppy mill survivor moved in, I came home from dinner to find feathers from a pillow carpeting the slate floor. I’ll never know who started the paw-ty, but I like to think it was Gus. Then, Faith, the beautiful Berner got in on the action. I suspect Booker, the Cockapoo, watched with disdain.
For months, I vacuumed feathers.
Toilet paper holders are empty at my house. Instead, rolls sit on the top of tank or rest in the sink of each bathroom. Otherwise, I return to confetti scattered all over the house.
Every day is a holiday with dogs.