Have I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck’d up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ’em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure… Continue reading This Rough Magic
Labor Day, 2006, is a day I will never forget. It was a gorgeous day here in San Diego—bright, sunny and nearly 90 degrees. I decided it was a perfect day to give the dogs an outdoor bath. At the time, we had Valentine, the matriarch at nearly twelve years old, Izzy who was four,… Continue reading Do Dogs Know They are Dying?