I Am Officially One of ” Those People “

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Last year I took my dog to the vets and the Vet and her staff  were great.

Hamish adored his Vet- he didn’t even stress at his examination and didn’t care when she gave him his shots- he was just super happy to get those cookies  that the Vet liked to give to her patients after giving them their shots.

Once I tried to explain  Hamish spends some of his days fending off his 16 year old Cat brothers who stick him with their claws at least once a week and because they are old sometimes they cat pull their claws back out and I have to unhook them from each other.

I told her I don’t think a quick jab is stressing Hamish out at all but he likes cookies and she likes to give them to him so I dropped it.

Then she asked me, ” So, is Hamish a Daddy yet?”

I was stunned.

” He’s only three years old. ” I said in absolute shock. I fought the urge back to reach down and cover Hamish’s ears for fear of what she would ask next.

She looked at me in my leather jacket and ripped up jeans and somewhat fearsome makeup job and to her credit she didn’t  do that fake cough you fall back on when you don’t want to laugh.

We chit chatted about dog foods and Hamish’s follow up appointments  and that was that.

It took me awhile- like maybe an hour or ten to realize what I had said and then I realized:

I am one of THOSE dog owners who forgets her dog is a dog and not a human child in a fur jacket.

I don’t know when that mindset took hold of me or when it happened.

I could speculate the why  of it all  but on the other hand- I don’t think that is such a bad thing. I kind like this quirky person that I’ve become since Hamish came into my life as a 11 week old puppy.

I know this much, nobody seems to mind.

Especially Hamish.

Photo of Hamish Macbeth
A.M Moscoso


She Really Wrote That


When I was little

and  somewhat melodramatic

( that is before I discovered the joys of just being strange and macabre )

I used to tell my family that I hoped that circus that they always said

was going to show up and steal me away because the circus was always in need of sly, sinister and naughty workers

would do it soon because my family were



Running away never figured into my dramatic exits.


But then I discovered the joys of Space Travel from Star Trek

and one day I wrote

in Magic Marker-

I’m not sure what the Magic part was because it’s not like the

ink disappeared

on the contrary, it lasted for ever-

on the refrigerator door:

I’m going to Mars because

I’ll never have to clean my room again  because  it will be on Earth-with the toys I hate and the ants in my lunchbox.


Rag Tag Daily Prompt : LETTER


This is my kitchen counter.

This is where my delicious Deep Dish Apple pie was set out, waiting to celebrate New Years Eve with me and my family.

I even bought fresh cream to whip  for  fluffy dollops of whipped cream to  eat on the side by ginormous spoonful’s    put  on top of my warm and golden deep dish apple pie.

This is my dog,  Hamish Macbeth.

Fun fact.

My sixty pound, four year old Chocolate Labrador Retriever can eat an entire 11 Inch deep dish apple pie all on his own with zero upsets to his tummy or digestive system and still have room for his dinner with absolutely no problems.

I have come to one conclusion based on this stunning experience-and it’s based in science.

My dog is a TARDIS.