My Iris Story…

With the quietest of whispers, in just a moment, she was gone. A scruffy, cuddly, ball of energy named Iris with a piercing bark which either announced her presence, demanded attention, or a treat. Oh, those treats! Liverwurst was her absolute favorite, given her mixed Schnauzer/Sheltie German heritage. When she came to visit throughout the pandemic incarceration period, she would sit in front of the refrigerator and bring forth her best, most dramatic, little whine. She had a distinct vocal range with a mix of very low growls, subdued chirping, dramatic whining and, of course, her all out, glass-breaking-nails-on-a-blackboard, barking. She was…unique. Then again, what pet isn’t?

Iris died quite suddenly in August of last year, not long after this photo was taken of her, sitting patiently in her dog stroller. Long walks in the country weren’t a favorite for this short little lady, she was always happy to sit back and enjoy a scenic ride with someone doing the pushing. Refreshments and treats were close by.

Our daughter was her favorite, her rescuer and her owner, but, no one really “owns” a pet, do they? In fact, it’s completely the other way around, pets rule our lives and our hearts. At least that’s how it should be. Whenever Iris had the opportunity, she’d hop in Jill’s front seat to ride shotgun, almost defiantly at times. She was so tolerant of being photographed and being dressed in various costumes, depending on the season or holiday. Speaking of holidays, I used to play a song from “The Singing Dogs” each Christmas and, very much to my family’s dismay, taught Iris to bark along with their version of Jingle Bells which she was always delighted to do; liverwurst was the encouragement, of course.

Iris made us happy, asking for little except love and attention. She showed her love with the wag of her tail and her happy, sometimes annoying, piercing bark. She was part of our family and we were all so much better for having her share her life with us.



From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop… Throwback Thursday: Choose a photo from a previous August and write a poem or a blog post.

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A chance to go back…or not.

There are times in life where many of us throw up our hands and wish we could return to a different point in time, usually back to a place where things were simpler, less stressful. Most of what I’ve managed to do has brought me on life’s bumpy road to where I am at this moment.


If given the chance to pinpoint a particular age, one that we would never move from, one where we could do things differently, would we? Hard call and definitely one based on any circumstances involved. There are so many past moments in life which bring back a chain of pleasant memories that we would love to relive but, mixed in with them there always seems to be a dark area lurking in the happy background. Then, why stay there? Think about it.


Imagine being frozen in a past time of life, never to enjoy so much of what would have followed. Of course, we could all do without the pain of losing beloved family and friends but, to never experience the joys of marriage, children and more, because we choose to return to sixteen for example and remain forever young? Not so certain this would be a good option. Perhaps picking a present time, a current age, with possibly more time to accomplish unfinished tasks and gather many positive memories until your time officially comes to its end.


Maybe, just remembering the positive wonders of our past is enough, a reminder to continue on and live life as it should be lived.

And that…is where I’ll remain.

From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop: Write a blog post inspired by the word: back/If you could live the rest of your life at the age of your choice, what age would you choose and why?

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A necessary evil…

The impacts surrounding the virus onslaught of 2020, which held the world captive, have drastically altered the work scene. At least where I’m concerned.

I like working, being involved with people, and just feeling damn productive in all I do. Let’s face it, getting older and coming up to a door marked “retirement” isn’t for everyone. Unless you have a plan to head straight towards the final sunset of life, traveling the globe and racking up new adventures, work definitely beats sitting around watching sand fall through some hourglass.

Personally, I enjoy having structure, agendas and opportunities to exercise my creativity in a work environment where I help to make a difference. Or at least I think so. In the past few years, that bit of my idealistic attitude has taken a big hit as my industry related hours have been drastically modified. I find myself at a crossroad of decision; should I stay or should I go? Where can I go? Who will hire me? Not an easy choice, being older, but my potential speaks for itself; sadly no one seems to hear.

This leaves me wondering, what if the pandemic had not been unleashed on humanity, how much better would any of us be at this very moment? So much was taken away from our lives in the span of two or more years, especially job-related. The choking hold of a foreign, laboratory created, virus sucked any normalcy from life as we once knew it. Working, anywhere, either became a painful memory or a fight for survival, almost a necessary evil, for those still able to do so.

Somehow, we’ve survived and will continue on that twisted path of uncertainty. Mostly, we have even settled for so much less than what we’ve worked hard to rightfully deserve.

From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop… Write a blog post inspired by the word: work

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