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- Musings on wind storms, RGE, and the luxury of power on demand
- Child abuse, excessive caseloads, and Monroe County’s CPS
- Why all of the posts all of the sudden?
- Musing on pregnancy, abortion, and becoming a human
- My dog eats a live bird (musings on animals doing what animals do)
- Mama Mia, Don’t Break The Pasta
- The strangest dream: the incredible, growing house
- The election, fear, and an opportunity for change
- Election 2016: What would Susan B. Anthony do?
- Highland Park, paupers, and bodies in unmarked graves
50 thoughts on turning 50
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All articles and photos (c) Joanne Brokaw (except where noted) All rights reserved. For permission to reprint articles or photos, email the author.
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For a while after Bailey came to live with us, there was a lot of wrestling and playing and jostling for power here at the funny farm. But lately, things have calmed down to the point where I think the dogs have settled their differences and are happily cohabitating.
It was never very rough; not like when Bandit came and he took over the house like a tasmanian devil. This time we had lots of play wrestling, and Bandit did act pretty wonky for a week or so.
I’m not sure which dog is in charge, to be honest. The power change was silent. But Bandit has started eating again and is back to napping on the couch with me. Bailey still kicks him out of the dog bed in the living room, but she’s just as happy to snuggle up with him as make him leave.
Scout, on the other hand, has gotten bolder. He’s clearly defined his space in my office, and if he wants his dog cave he can have it. He needed to get a little more courage; it’s nice to see him hanging with the rest of the pack instead of always hiding under my desk.
Having three dogs has turned out to be a very interesting study in pack behavior.