dogs

I remember when I brought Rugby home. A tiny, pink-nosed bundle of adorable. He was a tri-color puppy, but mostly black and white with just a touch of brown over one eyebrow. A bundle of energy, curiosity, and unconditional love.

He was so small that he could sneak under the corner of my desk, which sits very close to the floor. He lay under there with just his nose sticking out so he could see me and make sure I didn’t get away. Once he got bored watching me write and decided to chew on the cords. He gave himself a nasty shock and scared me to death with his pitiful yelp. But he was a quick learner. He never did it again.

Rugby always seemed to worry that I’d disappear and never come back. He was forever watching and following one step behind. When he was small, he’d sit on my foot while I washed dishes or worked in the kitchen, making it very hard to get away unnoticed.

He loved walks, and for such a small dog he could pull like a freight train before he learned to stay by my side. Once he got a puppy sister, he became the perfect walker… but that’s another story.

Rugby was rough and tumble. He loved to play tug of war and shred his toys until they couldn’t squeak anymore. Half Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and half miniature poodle, made him wholly sweet and cuddly. He could barely wait until you sat down before he was making himself comfortable on your lap. I called him my lapdog and I will forever miss his warmth and generous spirit.

I brought Rugby home shortly after my last child left home for college. We’d had a poodle for seventeen years and he’d died earlier that same year. I was knocking about an empty house feeling sorry for myself, and Rugby joyously filled that void and much more.

He could make me smile just by sitting and looking at me sometimes. He lived to please and loved to play. He chewed up tennis balls, stuffed toys, and ropes, faster than I could supply them. He was a sweet dog who loved to cuddle almost as much as he loved to chase rabbits. Sadly, he never caught one, but he never gave up on the dream.

We found out over a year ago that our sweet dog had cancer. They only gave him a couple of months to live but Rugby lived and lived happily… for another year. Being that we thought he was at death’ door, I dedicated my last book to him, and we spoiled him worse than usual. His appetite dwindled when he got sick and he lost a lot of weight, but once he started eating like a king, he seemed to feel much better. He devoured hamburger, chicken, and Chinese food and turned his nose up at Iam’s dry dog food like a true connoisseur.

Last week we had to let Rugby go. He was nine and a half years old. I’m still knocking about this seemingly empty house without him, feeling his absence at every turn and step.

For everyone who has known the love of a faithful pet companion, I dedicate this post to yours and to mine.

So long Rugby. You will be greatly missed.

Your adopted mom, Barbara

The FALL BOOK BASH continues with author Cassidy Salem sharing an excerpt from her mystery, Think Murder. I love that title! There is no mistaking what kind of book you are getting when you read a title like that. And if you love mysteries as much as I do, you will grab this deal today. Think Murder just went on sale for .99¢! That is such a great deal you could buy one for yourself and another for a friend! Christmas is right around the corner and books are the perfect gift. Especially kindle books! You don’t even have to wrap them. 🙂

Adina Donati came to Washington D.C. to find excitement, not a dead body.
When a friend is murdered, Adina is drawn into the middle of the police investigation. Tensions rise as the suspect list expands to include Adina, her friends, and colleagues at the prestigious think tank where she works. But every cloud has a silver lining. Between the nice detective, the hot new volunteer at the dog rescue center, and the newly available preppy ex-boyfriend, Adina’s dating dry spell appears near its end. That is, if she doesn’t become the next victim.

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THINK MURDER (excerpt):

Hilary had pretty much wound down by the time we reached McSweeney’s. A popular spot among men and women in their 20s and 30s, the pub was standing room only and the scent of Guinness hung in the air. Most of the guys were scoping the scene seeking out potential hookups – but that was nothing new. Petite and pretty, with strawberry blond hair and sparkly blue eyes, Hilary was a magnet for male attention.

We made our way to the bar and each ordered a glass of white wine. I even managed to grab a small dish of chicken wings for us to share. We did our best to eat, drink, and talk, while standing, constantly jostled by the crowd. Just as one guy was on the verge of striking up a conversation with us, we snagged a small table in the back corner.

More often than not I enjoyed watching the flirtations or even flirted a bit myself, but today my attention was on our conversation. Hilary’s mood had changed since our arrival. Seated at our relatively secluded table, she fidgeted in her chair. After we had both ordered a second glass of wine, Hilary took a few rapid sips, then confided, “Something’s going on with Duncan, he’s been acting strange.” She hesitated, then stammered, “Do you think he’s cheating on me?”

So how was I supposed to answer that question? I hated to lie, still neither Duncan nor I had ever mentioned to her that we had been an item a couple years back – a brief relationship that ended when his interest lagged. To add insult to injury, he had found a replacement for me before breaking it off. Duncan is hot; he knows it and he uses it to his advantage. Faithful is not his middle name.

A bit of a coward, I replied, “I don’t know. Has his behavior changed? Any special reason you think he might be seeing someone else?”

“Just a feeling I have, like there’s something he’s not telling me. He’s been almost secretive since his last visit home.” Hilary’s eyes welled up with tears. “I think maybe I should wash my face, freshen up before we leave.”

While I waited for her to return from the restroom, I finished that second glass of wine and did my best to drive any thoughts of Duncan and his cheating past out of my mind. My favorite strategy for accomplishing that was to check out the guys standing at the bar. Most of them were in their early 20s, with the standard Washington yuppie uniform – business-like suits or at least respectable jackets and ties. The only guy that stood out was wearing a Redskins cap and no jacket. I guess he didn’t know the local dress code. No one there struck my fancy, so I didn’t have to pretend I was going to work up the courage to approach anyone.

Bored and wondering what was taking her so long, I decided to check up on Hilary. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t hiding in there, crying her eyes out. It meant we’d probably lose the table, but I was about ready to head home, and a trip to the restroom before leaving wasn’t a bad idea.

The restrooms at McSweeney’s are way in the back, down a long narrow hallway a few feet past the entrance to the kitchen. The location was a bit out of the way, but someone had the foresight to put four stalls in the women’s room. There was rarely a need to stand in line, at least not this time of day. At night, when there is live music and the place is packed, well that’s another story.

When I pushed the door open, the sink area was empty and the stall doors were all ajar. Strange. So where was Hilary? As I pondered that question, something on the floor of the last stall caught my eye. I walked over to take a closer look and saw Hilary slumped over on the floor.

“Hilary, are you OK? What’s wrong?” She didn’t answer. I moved closer, going partway into the stall. She was leaning leftward, her long hair falling into a large puddle of blood. I screamed, quite loudly to judge from the size of the crowd that came running in response. I leaned over and tried to check her right wrist for a pulse. There was none. Shaking uncontrollably, I lost my balance and landed on my butt outside the stall.

Buy Think Murder (kindle)

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Cassidy Salem has always been an avid reader. She is especially fond of mysteries (both cozy and traditional). Over the years, her favorite mystery authors have included Agatha Christie, Kathy Reichs, Mary Higgins Clark, and John Grisham. Cassidy also enjoys reading historical fiction focused on American and world history, as well as the classics.

Cassidy has never met a dog she didn’t like – a fact that influenced her decision to have the protagonist in “Think Murder” volunteer at a dog rescue center. When she’s not reading, Cassidy enjoys singing in an a cappella ensemble. Most of all, Cassidy enjoys spending time with family and friends, and travels with her husband and son whenever possible. Her travels have taken her to destinations throughout the United States and Europe.

Connect with Cassidy:

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Thanks for stopping! Have a question for Cassidy or just want to say hi? Leave a comment!

Barbara