Monthly Archives: March 2016
Changing Seasons and Enjoying the Unknown
When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was called Four Puppies (I found a few copies available on Amazon.com here). At that age, I loved the changing weather and enjoyed watching the four puppies learn not to mourn the loss of each season.
Recently, however, I remember having a conversation with someone: we both agreed that each season offers something more to look forward to in terms of what follows—except for autumn. Winter offers the promise of spring, of melting snow and blooming flowers. Spring offers the promise of endless and carefree summer days, of wind whispering through leafy trees and painting patterns of light and shadow on the lawn. Summer offers the promise of cooler autumn days, of blazing foliage and cozy harvests. I personally never look forward to the cold, crippling snow of winter.
For my corgis, Leia and Yoda, their “looking forward” is a bit different than mine. For them, 
summer still offers the promise of a respite from heat (as well as all the awesome smells of autumn’s decaying leaves); autumn promises the fun of a crisp snow (Yoda could sit in snow for hours!); and winter offers the promise of melting snow, smelly mud (for mud baths!), critters emerging from winter hiding (all the smells!); but spring offers only the promise of weather that’s too hot for my corgis to enjoy. Indeed, I could never convince my corgis to enjoy water, whether a large body of water, a little wading pool, or a squirt from the hose. They’d much rather hang out inside, where they take turns napping on the prime kitchen vent, through which the cool air conditioning brings their heavy coats to a more tolerable temperature.
I never understood why they feared water so much. If only they gave it another try, maybe they’d see what they were missing. It’s the same way I feel about a certain relative of mine (ahem!) who refuses to try seafood of any sort. If only she would give it an honest try, she would likely see what she’s been missing. (I can’t believe she gives up the opportunity to have bacon-wrapped scallops every Christmas!)
The front cover, illustrated by the talented Yuming Cao.
My dad always told me, “A coward dies a thousand deaths; a brave man dies just one.” Although I knew what he meant, even I was hesitant to take chances, especially in my younger days. I preferred the familiar. And it’s true—we mostly regret the things we didn’t do, not the things we tried.
It’s a lesson I wish Yoda would learn (for a growing list of things he’s afraid of, check here). In Cora Cassidy and the Craven Corgi, a book I based largely off of Yoda, I write of a corgi who is afraid of, well, almost everything; and his owner, the opposite, looks forward to each new experience.
In celebration of the changeover to spring, my publisher is offering the book from now until March 31 for only $10, shipped! You can purchase here for the special $10 promotion.
Fantastic Friday: Hope
I just happened upon a news story about a dog that was presumed dead for weeks–found safe and sound.
It’s a timely reminder about the importance of hope, even if a situation seems rife with despair.
In the nine months leading up to the birth of our daughter, we noticed that Yoda seemed drawn to my belly, and the baby seemed to love kicking him from inside. In fact, Yoda used to move his head from side to side on my stomach, and the baby’s kicks seemed to follow.
Yoda and the Unborn, playing a game of kick-the-corgi (excuse the look of exhaustion on my face!)
I thought he would be fast friends with the baby from the moment she came home. But that was not the case. After a traumatic few days leading up to his human sister’s birth, Yoda seemed terrified of the Six-Pound Terror.
At first, Yoda would barely stay in the same room as the baby. He preferred hiding in corners and darkness.
Leia is watching over the baby, but Yoda is hiding all the way in the way in the corner.
In a time that should be filled only with joy, I felt a little sad. Yoda, my favorite buddy, my best friend, was afraid to be in the same room with me. I didn’t think things would ever be the same with him, and I wondered if Yoda would ever be happy again.
Yoda: “I won’t come any closer to the Terror.”
And it continued to be a sad situation. Literally, all the baby did for weeks was–sleep. How, I wondered, could that be so horribly terrifying to a dog five times her weight? I researched tips on how to introduce dog and baby, but nothing seemed to work. I wondered if I’d ever get my old Yoda back.
But as the weeks (yes, weeks) passed, he snuck closer and closer to the little “terror.”
Slow progress. Yoda: “I still won’t touch the thing.”
But as soon as her little baby arm would flail anywhere near him, Yoda scattered to the corners of the house. Until one day, when all hope seemed lost…
One of the smoke detectors upstairs had just started chirping, and I decided I would fix it later. I was tired from sleepless newborn baby nights and sad at Yoda’s lack of affection toward the baby (and, by extension, me, since baby was practically attached to me for those few weeks).
Of course, there’s no noise more frightening to my corgis than a chirping smoke detector. I have no idea why. The actual smoke alarm went off twice in our house, and the corgis didn’t react one bit. But the little chirping sends them into a frenzy. They tremble for hours afterward and hide in the basement or whatever dark corner they can find. And if they can find me, they hide on me, too.
So of course as I was sitting there with the baby, the two corgis come barreling down the stairs to find me on the couch in front of the fire. Leia took a leaping run to my right, sitting so she was touching my leg but not touching the baby. Yoda took a running leap to my left and soon found himself touching–dun, dun, dun!–the baby’s foot!
!!!
But the chirping smoke detector is exponentially more terrifying to the world’s scarediest fraidy-dog that he took no heed of the baby, instead drawing comfort from the physical contact. When the dogs settled down many moments later, Yoda realized he was touching the baby. I saw the realization come into his eyes, and I fully expected him to scatter.
But he didn’t. Instead, he sniffed the breath coming from the softly-sleeping child. Then he curled up, allowing his paw to touch her foot. I didn’t want to move or make a big deal out of it, lest the progress fall by the wayside.
But the next day, when the smoke detector was well fixed, I asked Yoda to “sit.” I wanted to hold the baby on him so that she’d be sitting on his fairy saddle. I would be right there in case anything happened, and maybe Yoda would take comfort in that. And, finally, an entire month into the baby’s existence, Yoda made his peace.
Riding the fairy saddle.
Now, one of his favorite things to do is a game called “get petting from the baby.” Yoda, the gentle “giant” (well, compared to a tiny baby, anyway), allows her to grab his ears, eyelid, fur, you name it… I think she may grow to be his new favorite person in the world.
And as long as the two of them are happy, that’s a title I’m willing to give up–for the both of them.
All three Corgi Capers books are now out for Kindle! They’re part of the Kindle lending library, so if you are subscriber, you can read them for free. If you’ve bought the paperbacks from Amazon, you’re also entitled to a free copy of the corresponding Kindle edition. Haven’t read them yet? They’re only $2.99 each and available here:
Corgi Capers: Deceit on Dorset Drive for Kindle
Corgi Capers: The Sorceress of Stoney Brook for Kindle
Corgi Capers: Curtain Calls and Fire Halls for Kindle
Authors love book reviews! If you review (or have reviewed) any of the Corgi Capers books, email me the link to your Amazon.com review, and I will send you a coupon code for a free Kindle version of the next book in the series!
The Heart of a Hero: Stormborn
I’ve taken a bit of a break from this blog as I focused my energies on bringing my new daughter into the world! And what a story it was—she decided to arrive in the middle of a historic storm (Winter Storm Jonas).
You can read a brief account of the night here and here.
The whole night made me think about Corgi Capers: Curtain Calls and Fire Halls. In this third book 
in the series, Adam volunteers at a fire company and contemplates what actually makes a hero. Sometimes I think we’re trained to think heroes have to be “Big,” like Superman. Adam makes the same mistake.
What he learns through his adventures is that a hero is someone who is simply there for others—someone who lives his or her life making the world a better place. Adam’s direct experience with this comes in the form of firefighters, and I was fortunate enough to be able to witness this first-hand.
While I was sitting in the living room in pain, and wondering how in the world I was going to make it safely to a hospital when there were four-foot snowdrifts out there, a small army of firefighters were digging a pathway so that a fire department SUV could get close enough to my door so that I wouldn’t have to trudge through snow while battling contractions.
The blizzard challenged even the most rugged snowblowers and equipment.
And then, once on the ambulance, I realized how many heroes there actually are. While most people were snuggled up by a fire or having a movie marathon at home during the blizzard, these emergency responders were out there on long shifts, driving through dangerous conditions to make sure anyone needing assistance received it. From the ambulance driver to the EMTs who kept me (and each other) calm, to the doctors and nurses who became stranded at hospital for days because of the storm, a night like the night my daughter was born is enough to restore faith in humanity and make me want to find a way to pay it back—and pay it forward.
Stormborn, thanks to several heroes!
Corgi Capers book 1, 2, and 3 are now available for Kindle. If you’ve purchased a paperback copy at Amazon.com, you’re entitled to a free Kindle edition! Each Kindle edition is only $2.99:
Corgi Capers: Deceit on Dorset Drive for Kindle
Corgi Capers: The Sorceress of Stoney Brook for Kindle
Corgi Capers: Curtain Calls and Fire Halls for Kindle
Authors love book reviews! If you review (or have reviewed) any of the Corgi Capers books, email me the link to your Amazon.com review, and I will send you a coupon code for a free Kindle version of the next book in the series!
Woof-out Wednesday: Chip
Today, I’d like to give a shout out, err—I mean, a “woof out” to my best childhood friend, Chip. Chip was a little bichon frise with a huge personality. I was delighted to learn that a memory I wrote about him was accepted for publication in the recently-released Chicken Soup for the Soul book:
What I wrote about is how Chip brought out the best in each member of the family. Dogs seem to have an inherent understanding of human beings. They seem to know what we need even when we do not. I can’t count the number of days that my spirits have been lifted by a simple greeting from my corgis upon coming home from a challenging day at work.
In loving memory of Chip
Chip was no exception to this awesome ability. He brought out my dad’s creative side. He provided company to my mom. He encouraged my sister and me to be more outgoing and be diligent in teaching him tricks. Looking back through photo albums, I see that Chip was always there: posed among our stuffed animals when we were younger, curled up in bed when we were sick, dressed up in all manner of Halloween costumes over the years as we became teenagers… Chip was the dog we didn’t realize we needed—all of us.
In writing Corgi Capers, I was naturally drawn to dogs with strong personalities that both mirror and contradict the personalities of their people. Like Adam, corgi pup Zeph is hesitant and smart. Like Courtney, Sapphie is rambunctious and impulsive. Through interacting with their dogs, Adam and Courtney learn about their own personalities as well. They become better humans for having dogs.
As, of course, Zeph and Sapphie know just when to cuddle with a stressed-out human.
As do all dogs.
That’s why we love them.
Corgi Capers 