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The Partner, The Boss, the dog, and I rode over to Rhode Island last night to take a gander at a 1989 27' Gulf Stream Conquest motor home we discovered on Craig's List. After The Boss jumped all over the queen sized bed in the back, after I inspected each and every crack and crevice of closet or cabinet space, and after The Partner took the behemoth for a spin, hands were shaken. Words like "title," "insurance," and "license plates" floated easily through the crisp dusk air. We pledged to return the next day to bring the big baby home. New England is now our oyster. We already have plans for one or two weekend trips in October and all kinds of dreams for a lakeside site next summer. When I really want to get grandiose, I imagine a cross country trip that a young family will never forget. Our Gulf Stream's got a pinky-mauve velour interior. There are two seats in the cockpit and a captain's chair behind. At loft level, foam pallets come toge...

What is wrong with this picture? (Besides the fact that I have no photography skills whatsoever?) Did you get it? Did you? If not, here's a bit more of the scene: No, it was not a freak of nature that caused this. No blustery wind, no driving rain. It was The Boss, the dog and I on the way to the park. Well, actually, it had nothing to do with The Boss, except that she was there and could quite possibly have been killed if the porch ceiling wasn't so capable of remaining suspended practically by its lonesome. I was walking out the front door, helping The Boss down the steps with one hand and holding Roxie's leash in the other. That's when our pit bull saw the cat in the neighbor's yard and bolted toward it. I lurched forward, struggling to hold on as Roxie put all of her 50 pounds, plus the strength of momentum, into the chase. That's when I did the stupid thing for which The Parnter is currently not speaking to me. I grabbed ahold of one of the porch's ric...

Next time I even think of bringing both the dog and The Boss on the trip to the veterinarian's office, I hope someone shoots me with a tranquilizer gun. This afternoon I brought Roxie in for a skin condition that has rendered her itchy and reeking. We were not even through the door when she went all a-twitter, her paws tapping the linoleum at the sight and smell of the two other dogs in attendance. She was gagging against the pull of her leash as I tried to rein her in. Putting down The Boss, I fell into a chair and ordered my other baby to sit. She ignored me. I waited a few beats and said "sit" again. She continued to tap dance and retch. I pushed down her wiggle butt till a connection was made. Then one of the other dogs must have moved, or yawned, or twitched a whisker. This set Roxie off again, and she darted to the side, almost decapitating The Boss with the taut line of her leash. Hysterics ensued. The Boss threw herself down on the floor and wailed. The dog opened...

I'm sitting here waiting for my dog to yak up slightly less than a pound of M&Ms after I administered 2 tbsps of hydrogen peroxide and 2 tablespoons of milk to bring on the barf. It seems that Roxie is no longer content with eating the garbage and has taken to climbing onto table- and countertops to find the most illicit of booty. I had been gone for three hours when I came home to find the M&M sack laying empty on the floor. I ran into the living room, fully expecting to find the family pet in the throes of a seizure on her dog bed. She looked up at me with one eye as I stepped through the threshold. There was nothing out of the sheepish ordinary in her gaze. I breathed a temporary sigh of of relief before I got on the phone with the vet. One sticky note filled with directions later, I was on my way to the store to buy hydrogen peroxide to induce vomiting. After Roxie lapped up her first dosage of the nasty stuff mixed with milk, she proceeded to run around the yard in h...

Roxie the family pet is making the rounds. Just today she was featured on a Web site catering to the automotive needs of women . If you're wondering what my dog has to do with female drivers, I'll tell you that the connection will become clearer once you stop over to say hi. And after you do that, you should cruise around the rest of the site for a look at the automotive world from a woman's perspective. The site has been featured in papers like the New York Times , the Boston Globe , and was recently a presence at BlogHer '06. As someone who has been reduced to a snot-faced, blathering mess at more than one car repair facility by technicians who were out to take me for a ride, I am all about a Web site devoted to helping women assume the driver's position when it comes to navigating the slaloms of car buying and car maintenance. If only Patty could also teach me how to merge correctly and not to hit curbs. Anyway, check it out. And tell them Roxie sent ya.

Dear Roxie, Upon my homecoming from the Supermarket today, as I walked through the door with a 20 pound turkey hanging from one hand and a 20 pound girl tucked under the opposite arm, I saw laid out before me the evidence of gratitude. I saw that pit bulls, too, can give thanks. It is in the wag of their hind quarters that shimmies out through their tails; it is in the incessant licking; and it is in the fabric of three sofas ripped open with love. This year, I know who it is that has taken over receipt of your doting energies. I see the bond form a tighter strangle-hold every day. You and The Boss . The Boss and you. She feeds you. You sniff her butt. She drops heavy objects on your back. You eat her socks. The two of you cannot get enough of each other. I'm sorry I did not take you along for the ride to Price Chopper today, as I know how you feel about the separation. I just thought it was a little too cold out to leave you in the car, and supermarkets do not generally smile upon...