Should I Apologize?

Walking on a nature path near my home this morning, I spot a "senior" gentleman pushing a baby stroller and slowly moving toward me.


But, what got my attention was the cutest Basset Hound puppy on a leash trotting alongside the stroller. It was love at first sight! Especially since I once had a Basset named Wilbur.

The man introduced me to Daisy and she obligingly rolled over on her back so I could rub her warm puppy tummy. The gentleman and I talked for about 10 minutes about how he'd lost his 19-year-old beagle in April and still wasn't over it (evidenced by the tears in his eyes). I chimed in about our 16-year-old mix, Molly and how we were struggling with the "inevitable."


We exchanged good-byes and continued on separate paths. I still had a smile on my face thinking of Daisy when I stopped and realized in horror that I not only hadn't asked about his grandchild sitting quietly in the stroller, I didn't even know if it was a boy or girl!!


What kind of grandparent am I?? The woofie-loving kind, I guess.

To read a story about Wilbur, read WOOF: Women Only Over Fifty

Mary Cunningham (Milkbone)

A Number Too BIG To Ignore!

Fifty. The number catches the attention. Not only of women reaching that milestone, but women younger and older than 50, men of all ages and even “tweens.”

This claim is based on the past weekend’s Decatur Book fest. In the Echelon booth, perched on a stand, stacked on a table, here, there, everywhere…were copies of Women Only Over Fifty, a big old 50 plastered on a red cover. Yep, hard to ignore.

So for two days I met the most wonderful people who were drawn to that number. Men who bought our book for their spouses—to show support if their wives were feeling a little anxious about turning 50 or to honor the fact their partner had accepted it with grace. Young women who bought the book to celebrate a sister or an aunt who would soon quality as a WOOFer or were already enjoying the decade. A young man bought it for his mother. A junior high student stood staring at the cover for the longest time, drawn to it for reasons I will never know, and maybe she hasn’t even yet processed.

Then there were the women of this “certain age” who couldn’t wait to buy it for another friend who was crossing that threshold either willingly or being dragged.

Perhaps the women who touched me the most, when I asked who they wanted the book dedicated to, were the ones who proudly pointed to themselves and answered, “Me!” I particularly remember one woman who then quickly added, “I deserve to be nice to myself.” I told her, she was the reason we wrote the book. She represents the best of this WOOFer breed.

WOOFers. Women not afraid to embrace (with vigor!) wherever they are on their path. Especially so when times are challenging and unfamiliar. But on we go. Head held high and humor well intact!

A big thank you to ALL you wonderful people who stopped by the booth and made my weekend!

The book sales were great. Which means: There are a lot of us out there, in numbers too big to ignore,

and we’re gonna…

WOOF on!

Diana (d.d.dawg)

Woofers + Chocolate!

d.d. dawg (Diana), Mad Dog (Melinda), and Milkbone (Mary), celebrate the arrival of WOOF books with chocolate/chocolate cake!

Pre-order Today! Amazon

Perks of Being Over Fifty

*Your secrets are safe with your friends because they can't remember them either.

* No one expects you to run...anywhere.

* People no longer view you as a hypochondriac.

* There is nothing left to learn the hard way.

* Things you buy now won't wear out.

* You can eat supper at 4 pm.

* You can live without sex but not your glasses.

* You get into heated arguments about pension plans.

* You no longer think of speed limits as a challenge.

* You quit trying to hold your stomach in no matter who walks into the room.

* You sing along with elevator music.

* Your eyes won't get much worse.

* Your joints are more accurate meteorologists than the national weather service.

* Your supply of brain cells is finally down to manageable size.

*You're not "up" on the latest dance moves...and you don't care.

anonymous author(s)


Milkbone (Mary)

Loss -- Andy

I have cried so hard the last few days. My eyes are swollen and sore, but yet I continue to sob. My heart feels like it has been ripped out of my chest and I hurt—all over. The pain of grief is unbearable.

But it isn’t a mother, father, or close friend that I am grieving for. It is my cat. Only an animal lover can understand that losing a beloved pet can be just as painful, because our pets are truly part of our families.

I found Andy all curled up in his favorite napping spot. After sixteen years of being my constant companion, he was gone. I’m glad he didn’t suffer.

I got Andy from an animal rescue place when he was five weeks old. He weighed a pound and a quarter at his first vet appointment. He was so scared that he was literally shaking all over. When I picked him up and cuddled with him, he sighed and relaxed in my arms. And the rest is history.

We went through so many changes together—several long distance moves, the death of his brother, his struggle with diabetes, and the death of my husband.

I don’t think we humans can truly love unconditionally. We try. But our pets are experts at unconditional love. They never argue with us when we come in from a bad day at work. They don’t try to “fix” what is wrong. They never say a word about the extra pounds we have gained, or ask us “What in the world did you do?” when we come back from spending big bucks at the hair salon. They just listen and love.

They have their demands though. Andy would greet me at the door, meowing for a treat and a rub. At night sometimes, he would yowl—just to get me to wake up and acknowledge the fact that he was there. And the last eight years of his life, I had to give him insulin shots twice a day. But all I did for him only made me feel needed, wanted and loved. Through it all, I feel like he gave me a lot more than I gave him. He only asked me to love and care for him. And, in return, he gave me total unconditional love.

The house seems so empty without him. I long to hear him purring in my lap, and looking up at me as if to say: “You’re the greatest thing since tuna fish!”

Andy, I am so glad I had you for so many years. The pleasure you brought me will help turn this sadness I am feeling now into wonderful memories. Rest in peace, buddy.

Melinda