The Four Horsemen
The usual saying is that it comes in threes. Whatever is going on in your life, be it bad or good, comes in threes. So, when the third one arrives, you can expect the tide to turn. But I’m a Four Horsemen kind of guy. Number one was Buddy dying. He made it 15 years. I miss his sweet, sad eyes and Scottie Dog face, even though he was a Petit Basset Griffon Vendeen. Sometimes I think I still hear him shake his collar. Stormy, our comfort cat, is okay as far as lap-cats go, but he doesn’t have the feel of our Buddy Boy, not even close. Stormy is way too independent, and can draw blood ...