4. A Valuable Lesson Learned

Sometime between 1997 and 1999, I got my nerve up to finally show the story to someone I wasn’t married to. My cousin Lucy was visiting us, and I had made an off-hand comment about having a story with an unknown purpose. I told her I didn’t know what to do with it, but was also sure I didn’t write it (Lucy would understand that comment, and not think me crazy). She wanted to read it. Reviewer #2 then went on to my back porch, with her back to me and read. I could tell when she was finished so Read More»

3. I Haven’t A Clue

My own experiences with the dogs I have been blessed to have are so compelling to me of a heavenly design that no amount of science will ever convince me otherwise. Studies, anecdotes, and eyewitness accounts abound as to the value of having a dog nearby. I watched for several years as our two pet therapy dogs (Golden Retrievers named Rambeau and her offspring Muttley) wandered the halls of both AIDB and a nearby nursing home, making a difference to children and seniors. Both dogs used insights and instincts to bring a totally different joy to the recipients of their Read More»

2. All Dogs Go To Heaven

To understand the “environment” in which this story arrived into my life, I must digress a bit to explain our life at the time. We had moved to a beautiful lake property in Alabama, a place we came to recognize as our “retirement home,” not long before the spirit-writing of Why Dogs Are occurred. My husband had taken the position of Vice President of the Alabama Institute for Deaf and Blind (AIDB), an incredible institution with a national reputation. It housed individual schools for deaf, blind or children with multiple handicaps, an adaptive program for adults who found themselves losing Read More»

1. Where Did THAT Come From?

Good Lord, what just happened? Where did THAT come from? What does it MEAN? WHO wrote it? I’ve had this experience more than once—words just spew out of me–sometimes written, sometimes spoken—I don’t consciously recall even having them pass through my brain, much less get filtered, censored or amended. In fact, in school, I perfected the “first draft = final draft” methodology, never using so much as a single piece of correction tape for my typed efforts, nor ever getting a smidgeon of white-out on my fingernails. Granted, I had to be in the right mood for that strategy to Read More»