Stories from The Whiner

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Stories from The Whiner: Adult Defiance
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Sherlock Herms Has Gone to #Blogpaws

Stories from The Whiner: Adult Defiance

Hi, it’s me, Dori *wavy paws* with another Story from The Whiner, a newsletter my mom used to write about her fish-out-of-water experiences of being a girl from the suburbs living in the country. Apparently there is a trick to doing it…and my parents were both severely clueless.

In this episode my Mom, Kimberley Koz, proves it is indeed possible to Age Without Brains. And now…Adult Defiance. Read More

Sherlock Herms Has Gone to #Blogpaws

“Digital EMF Meter… Check! 35mm camera… Check! Digital thermometer and Spirit Box… Check! Litter box, extra litter and pooper scooper… Check!”

“Hwermie! What are yoo doing?”

I glanced up from packing my suitcase to see my little sister Dori looking at me with huge worried eyes. “I’m leaving for Blogpaws next week. There’s a lot to do before we head out.”

She looked ready to cry. “But Hwermie! Dottie is weady to go through the doggy door portal. She needs to know she’s dead. Yoo can’t just zoom off to Blogpaws and leave her there. What if she fweaks out?”

I sighed. “Look, I meant to help her figure out she’s dead before I left for Blogpaws. But then Mom got a lecture gig at some writer’s conference and also a gig with a radio talk show over in Spain of all places. I kinda need her assistance to help Dottie with her issues. It’s not my fault we ran out of time. I was here at home doing my part as a purranormal investigator. If you have to be upset with anyone, be upset with Mom.”

Dori wrung her tabby tail with nervous paws. “Should I spray something?”

“NO! I… Look, honey. I’m sorry we can’t help Dottie this week. Or even next week… I–”

“Two whole weeks! That’s a lifetime in cat years!”

*pulls out pocket calendar* Actually, I can’t schedule Dottie’s problem until June 9th.”

I saw Dori stagger. “I think I’m gonna pass out,” she moaned, making me run to ease her to the floor. “We worked so hawd to get weaders to like us. Now they’re all gonna go away and never come back.”

“No, they won’t abandon us. They’ll be back.”

Dori began to sob. “Our readers might have Atten-Shun Deffy-Sit Dis-Odor. We need to post every week so they don’t fo’get us, Hwermie!” She flexed her claws. “If only I was born with fingers so I could type instead of being born with an amazingly beautiful face. Oh! The twials and twibulations of being born gorjus!” Read More

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