Growing Old, Gracefully.

Jack Newsom, our alpha dog, always acts like he has important places to go. He prances right by me, ears up and forward, eyes focused, as he heads confidently across the creek and up the hill. He seems to say, “Don’t bother me now, Don. I have important work to …

At times, I think of myself as an old book. My cover is a bit tattered. Each chapter is a decade. Totally non-fiction, with photos to prove it. People are thinking about sticking it on the top shelf, forgotten and out of reach (particularly for the young folks). Hey, wait. …

My psychologist daughter told me about a secret trick she employs. Each time she meets a new acquaintance, she immediately looks for one thing, no matter how small, she can appreciate before she may get influenced by any negative observations. Why not give this one a shot, I …

My old friend Mark Twain showed up again last night at the foot of my bed. I don’t mind. He can be witty at times. But not this time. Mark was all lathered up about author Percival Everett stealing the story of “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” to publish his own …

Billy Bragg was our long-haired black German Shepherd alpha dog for quite stretch over a decade ago. He was best known for gently biting the noses of humans he loved most. At times, when he was overly rambunctious, my nose resembled a ripe tomato. We had several crews of …