Seven of my last ten stories on Medium are satirical take downs of the current Lame Duck POTUS, on his way to becoming a Jail Bird. Hopefully, he keeps on tweeting in the Rose Garden Cemetery while climbing a tree to catch a fish. Don’t panic, Hannity Bear. Say night-night, Yose-might is just a dream you dream on your prison cot.

It’s been a long time since I gave Lucy — the yellow pup in my profile pic —a chance to tell a story.

Jamie teaching Lucy to swim at Lake Tahoe, NV
Twelve years older than Lucy, Jamie taught her everything she knows.

Lucy’s first short story. Her story based on a prompt — lactose intolerant, doggie, rant. Lucy’s memories of Jamie. And her photo-journal.

“So, Lucy, what would you like to say to our followers today? Would you like to tell them about how you hide from the vacuum but chase the lawn mower?”

“No, not that.”

“About the wild horses that graze on our front lawn?”

“No, I have something else in mind.”

“What is it, girl?”

“This is an open letter to the golden retrievers on Summer Way.

Dear Neighbors: It’s time to take down your effin’ Trump signs. The mother fucker lost!”

Her writing muse lurks in the volcanic hills amidst mustangs, marmots and jackalopes. While hiking with her dogs, Ann stumbles upon stories of dark humor.

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