Bubba in March
It’s amazing the things in our lives that are really good stories and we rarely ever realize it. I bring this up partly because we just got a new dog a couple months ago. He’s a Pomeranian. If he gets up to six pounds, he will probably be fat. He was 5.4 pounds at his last checkup, and he’s very muscular. But he’s just under five months old. Like most dogs and all puppies, he feels he needs to be involved in everything. So, when we empty the dishwasher, he invites himself inside the thing, even if the bottom rack is pulled out. Does this not sound like the jumping off place for a picture book?
In other words, he’s too cute for his own good. At his obedience class, the instructor – a somewhat grizzled man who’s been working with dogs for over 35 years – has to pick him up and let him lick his face at every single class. And he chases his tail. A lot.
Then there’s my husband who rattles through the spice shelf, going “Mmm, we can use this for grilling.” Who can’t see this turning into a young inventor or fantasies played out in the attic? (Not that I’m saying my husband is a six-year-old.)
Or, two dogs meet for the first time. When one calms down, the other gets excited.
We watch a lot of baseball. There is always something new in baseball. A while back, someone got an unassisted triple play. You guessed it, I’ve been working on a story about a kid making a triple play.
So, don’t tell me you have a good story for me. Either tell it yourself or tell me how to approach what I already have.
Childish Nonsense 
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