Hamish and The Poison Bee

My dog is a Chocolate Labrador in name only.

He’s more like a fuzzy happy garbage can that eats whatever you drop into it- need I mention that I’m sure he’s the reason why my cat’s litter box is suspiciously clean at times?

Together it’s safe to say that Hamish eats anything.

Anything that is except for the Baby’s Bee ( that’s what we call pacifiers in my family- Bees ) that turned up in the street on our walks.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Hamish sniffed the Bee once and from then on he walks wide circles to get away from it- not only does he avoid it I’ve noticed other dogs doing the same thing.

It’s been there for almost two weeks now- so I named it the Poison Bee.

( Hamish putting hate on the Poison Bee )

Sometimes I’ll be going through my day or just as I fall asleep at night or when I wake up in the morning and I think to myself- what is it with that Bee…the Poison Bee…and I’m starting to think maybe it’s got to me, that it’s in my system working it’s way through my blood like poison does.


Photo A.M. Moscoso






My dog Domino died about 4 years ago this October.

Domino was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and by managing her diet, giving her a chance to go on very short walks everyday  and making sure she had lots of attention from me and her cat brothers ( who never left her side ) she had low if next to no stress in her day to day life. Domino had a few symptoms show up from day to day and none of the others that you would normally see in a dog suffering from this disease so I consider us lucky.

I won’t fool you, for the last two years of her life I was devoted to Domino and her care and it was a lot of work but I didn’t care-Domino was spirited and smart, she hated to get her paws muddy and loved getting her nails clipped and when she was a puppy she fought off and got the better of a dog that outweighed her by over 40 pounds.

Domino was an exceptional creature- second to none, two or four legged.

Domino and her brothers- when she got ill they insisted on going on walks with us.


One thing bothers me though- it bothered me the night she died and it bothers me now.

I had come home from work and as usual we went on our little walk, we ate dinner and we settled down to watch some TV in our bedroom.

After a few minutes  started to cough and then she got up, turned around a few times in her bed, she got comfortable and she died.


Domino went on her own clock, I believe that.

She knew what she wanted ( her walk, her dinner with Mom and our evening of tv watching ) and after she had her regular day she let go.


Me and Domino were alone together on the night she died- I put her pink blanket on her but I didn’t cover her face.

She had been such a pretty dog that I couldn’t do that- and I thought that if there was little spark in there somewhere, I wanted her to see me and her cat brothers until she was really gone.

I don’t know what I wanted to give her in those final moments of her life- she sort of ninja moved her way out of the world- but I guess was what bothered me was that she knew she was going to die  and I didn’t- I thought it was going to be another evening at home with my girl.

But it wasn’t like any other day – she died at the foot of my bed.

And I never got to say goodbye.

Domino shortly before she died- last month she would have turned 18 years old.


Daily Post Prompt: None




She ( has always ) Fought Like A Boss

When I was about six years old my Dad’s cousin bought a puppy.

” Nicky” as we called him was as sweet as he was big.

Nicky turned out to be pretty big when he was full grown:

But my story starts here:

Shortly after this picture was taken our family was together for a holiday event and we were all in the backyard when I asked if I could hold Nicky’s leash. I was walking around the yard with Nicky when my Dad whistled for Nicky and Nicky who for his own reasons would spend  his life thinking he was a puppy around my Dad took off like a shot.

He pulled me right off of my feet ( considering I was a shrimpy  little kid that was no surprise) and I held on to his leash while he dragged me across what seemed like a thousand acres of lawn right to my Dad’s feet.

” Why didn’t you let go?” I remember everyone asking me.

I looked back at them with the same look they were giving me. That look  said – ” did you loose your single brain cell or did you just forget to bring it along.”

The answer was obvious I said with the leash still firmly clenched in my hand.

” I didn’t want him to get away.”

I handed the leash over and dusted myself off and spit a bit of turf out of my mouth and I’m sure I didn’t just walk off.

I probably swaggered away,  like a boss.


Daily Post Prompt: Avid


Yes this is a true story!

Here’s some info about my cousin John and Nicky:

Shoreline man honored with AKC Lifetime Achievement Award


Oh. Hamish.

One afternoon I noticed my high energy dog- Hamish Macbeth was being a bit on the quiet side.

I looked over at him from where I was writing and he looked up and then he looked over to his right and yawned.

I asked him if he was feeling ok.

Hamish yawned.

Photo A.M. Moscoso
Photo A.M. Moscoso

I went back to writing and Hamish’s sigh turned into a weird little puppy yap so I looked over to what he was looking at and noticed that there were a pile of his toys on the corner of his bed- and under the pile of toys was my cat Micey:

Photo: A.M. Moscoso
Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Sometimes I wonder about my dog- but mostly I wonder about my cat and if revenge really is a dish best served cold.

I’m afraid in this case…it will be.


It Follows

My Grandfather
My Grandfathers


My Grandfathers didn’t really know each other.

One lived in Seattle, the other in Honokaa, Hawaii.

When I was about 7 they were both in Washington at the same time- and though they didn’t meet up they both told me a story.

My Grandfather Bert’s story took place in Seattle, my Grandfather Cypriano’s version in Hawaii.

In the story they stopped at the side of the road to help a woman- she flagged them down if I remember it right.

My Grandfather Cypriano was pretty clear- the woman was a ghost- a bad one. And he drove off.

My Grandfather Bert, didn’t drive off. He had some sort of conversation with her and it did not go well. I was under the impression she had scared him pretty bad.

They both told me at the end of the story to never stop for this woman- ever. Don’t even talk to her they said.

So this brings me to now


My Neighbor and A Murder of Crows.


I noticed her for the first time two years ago when I had just got my puppy Hamish and  had started walking him everyday because a smart Labrador Pup with too much time on his paws is not a good combination in one  small creature who will grow to be a big dog.

On the day we saw her, were walking up the hill when five or six crows settled down on the fences and wires and some were in the trees. The entire time they were flying in and setting down they were in a rage and at first I thought there may have been an injured one or even a baby crow on the ground but as far as I could see there was nothing.

They were ignoring me and Hamish, they were much interested in what was coming towards us.

She was tiny and petite and blond- she was wearing headphones and jogging- her hair was caught behind her head in a pony tail. I don’t see a lot of joggers in my neighborhood, but the ones who do come through aren’t covered by a cloud of crows dive bombing them each step of the way.

Hamish was about 12 weeks old at the time, so I kept him walking because he was in his jumping up phase  and when she jogged by us she smiled at me and Hamish ran behind my leg and hid.

Photo: A.M Moscoso
Photo: A.M Moscoso

It been over two years since me and Hamish saw The Jogger and The Murder of Crows- we always know when she’s coming because the crows fly ahead of her. Me and Hamish stay on the other side of the street from her and she ignores us, but Hamish always raises his hackles at her and he doesn’t even seem to notice all of the crows which is some trick because there are easily over two dozen of them cawing their lungs out and buzzing around her.

To be honest, the sight of that is disturbing but I’m glad the crows are there.


At the beginning of last  fall me and Luis were walking Hamish when the Jogger came right by us and the crows were there too- of course.  I know Hamish doesn’t like her so I was worried he’d growl or bark. So I was going to move him to my left and just as I did she did she was right next to Luis and Hamish jumped up and pushed Luis away from her.

There were about five crows that had set down on the fence and when they saw Hamish do that, they took off after the jogger and buzzed her – they were literally in her face. They were furious. I had never seen them that angry in two years.

So you might be wondering what the Jogger does when the crows are swarming her- not a thing. She doesn’t wave her arms around or yell ‘shoo’ or anything. She just has a creepy smile on her face. She keeps on jogging.

So what do we think?

Are these events connected?

I think so.

That’s why I’ve never said a word to her- ever.

It seems like a good idea not to.


Interesting Reading: Crows on Campus– I’ve seen them here and it’s quite a sight when they come in to roost for the night.


Daily Post Prompt: Unseen