A Dog’s Life

Jack’s Wednesday guest post –

Zora, Earth Mother

She’s been with us for fourteen years now and has been the most laid back, undemanding dog it’s ever been my good fortune to have been befriended by. But it’s obvious that she’s getting to be an old lady. She spends a lot of time looking abstractedly into corners of the bookstore and she has great difficulty handling anything involving the slightest of steps up or down.

She entered our life as a wee (mostly) Lab pup rescued from a busy intersection. When we moved here to Big Stone Gap she had no difficulty becoming the foster mother to a never ending procession of tiny kittens, licking them and lying with them and never complaining about their demands.

The only time I ever saw her show any belligerence was when a visiting dog attacked Bert. She attacked back, exponentially.

Now Bert – Ah, Bert!

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Zora and Bert await breakfast

Even terrier Bert can’t manage to rile Zora, much as he tries. Never were two dogs more different, but somehow they rub along. Chasing each other round the yard was their favorite sport and they still manage that from time to time. Slower now.

It’s always hard to deal with the aging of pets, but somehow we have to. I think they help to teach us about mortality, simply because their life expectancy is so much shorter. Time and again throughout our longer human life we have to deal with the parade of much loved companions – their arrival and departure.

We become educated to recognize the signs and that’s never easy.

Zora – our truly beloved and uncomplaining Zora is getting to be an old lady – – –

Questions and Answers (you will never hear in a bookstore)

We apologize for the delay in this weekend’s blog. Wendy was away writing, and Jack forgot!

Questions bookstore customers ask and the answers bookslingers long to give, but never do.

“Where do you get your books from?”

The book fairy brings them. At night. And we also get together with other bookstore owners and dance naked around the book conjuring cauldron on James Patterson’s birthday.

Gullible people like you who don’t know there are hundreds of pennies to be made on the sale of each and every hardback work of fiction ever published.

Oh, we just go to the library and search the dumpster.

Yard sales. And then we mark them up 400%. And spray them with Lysol if they smell like cat pee. What can I help you find today?

“So have you read all these books? Heh heh heh.”

Duh. You think I’d sell a book I hadn’t read?

Just the red ones. Heh heh heh.

Who, me? I’m sorry; I thought you were asking the shop cat. Yes, she has.

“Do you sell books?”

No. This is a drug front. Say the password so I know you’re not an undercover cop.

Only if we can’t talk you into a Nook or Kindle.

Sometimes, if we’re very lucky.

“So how’s this work, like a library, you borrow the books and bring them back?”

No. You buy the books and bring them back. Then if we like you we’ll sell them to you for another two weeks.

Yes, that’s how it works, but you have to give us your Social Security Number so we can sign you up.

Oh, is THAT how a library works?! I’ve always been afraid to try one, since I saw that HBO film as a child, where the librarian looks all sweet and kindly but is actually a soul-sucking demon from Hell.

“Is this the adult bookstore?”

That depends on how you’re using the word “adult.”

Get out. And wash that raincoat.

Why? Can you read?