Ron expressed concern today for our dog, Doc's sexual orientation. "You mean, you think he's gay?" I said. "I've known that forever. A mother knows these things." "It's just that he spends so much time with Charlie." "So, you're not concerned that he's gay, but that he's trans-species?" "Yeah! That's it," he said. "And why does that bother you?" I said. "It doesn't really. It's just a concern." I told him not to worry, the dogs of a feather will always flock together... And so went our conversation. Meanwhile, as I type this, Doc and Charlie are sharing some quality time together under the carport. Winter Olympics!!!! Love 'em. I've spent the past two days sending manuscripts to literary journals. I've been advised that the best way to approach the publishing challenge is to blanket the market. My blanket is a thin one, riddled with holes, more of a ne...