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 Caplin entering the pond My pond is one of the most important things in my life. But it didn’t start out being mine. First it was Caplin’s pond, and then Garibaldi’s, and now, finally, I have inherited it. Am I taking good care of this historic treasure? You be the judge. Continue reading “The Evolution of My Pond” »
 My dream I have a dream. It is just a little dream not one of those big dreams like “world peace” or “visit the Amazon” that could never come true. I have just a little dream about my pond. Continue reading “Pond Dreams” »
 It's St. Patrick's Day Do I look Irish to you? Well, maybe a little in that getup, but not normally. Capybaras are not Irish. I don’t even know if there are any capybaras in the whole country of Ireland (it’s not that big afterall). Maybe St. Francis (or whoever) drove them out along with the snakes. Anyway, tell that to Melly. Please. Someone has to stop her. Continue reading “A Busy Day” »
 Me and my pond last spring Melly has always had something against my pond. She has complained and complained about how I spend hours in there during the summer, hidden from human eyes and interference. My pond is my sanctuary. Or, at least, it was. |
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