I rediscovered Judith Viorst this week. I found this poem "Mother Doesn't Want a Dog" which made me laugh. A friend and I had just been talking about our dogs having taken over our houses and having affected such decisions as, "Do I dare get hardwood floors?" This poem made me giggle.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mother-doesn-t-want-a-dog/
If I remember correctly, Judith Viorst poems and musings used to appear regularly in one of the magazines I used to read each month - Redbook, maybe, or Good Housekeeping. Frequently her wry and pertinent observations seemed to be about my life as much as hers.
The photo is of our Max - perfectly at home wallowing on my family room couch, which, because he thinks it is his, I have to keep covered to protect it from his shedding. ("Oh," my husband said when he rescued this orphan, "he won't get very big, and he won't shed much." Not a bit of truth in either statement.)
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