One morning Izzy spent five minutes navigating the deck stairs, another five taking her place in the middle of the yard, to bark—once—at deer she saw over the fence. As the deer fled, she kicked her feet and marched back across the yard and back up the deck stairs, seemingly in slow motion. I wanted to help her but she wanted her independence. And so, I stood at the ready, but allowed her to have her triumphant moment…
Read moreA Thanksgiving to Bond
