I'm a writer and dog lover who lives on Long Island with my extremely patient husband Nick, two feisty felines, and my muses – The Dogs. When I'm not walking them, playing with them, training them, or cleaning up after them, I'm at my keyboard, busily tapping out both fiction and non, all of it inspired by my canine companions.
When asked what a writer at work looks like, most people picture a similar image: A spacious room lined with shelves heavily laden with leather bound titles. A cat, curled in a corner, dozing unobtrusively in a sunbeam. An antique maple desk positioned in front of a large window overlooking a picturesque view. The scene is cozy, calm, serene - the ideal atmosphere in which to kindle creativity. In this room, a writer sits in a well-worn leather chair, either hunched over a keyboard, hard at work, or poised in thought, contemplating their next sentence.
That writer is not me.
Crammed in the corner of my sofa, wearing flannel pajamas and a t-shirt with an image of a dog on it, laptop poised precariously on my knees, coffee cup balanced on a three inch shelf between the wall and the arm of the sofa, I prepare to create. A cat dozes on the sofa cushion beside me. Another cat sits on the back of the sofa, above my head, peering out the window. Reveling in the silence, I begin typing my first paragraph of the day…
…and then the dogs come in.
My husband, Nick, shoves open the front door and ushers them into the house before he ducks into his office to work on a video project. The dogs - Leah, the clingy, reactive Doberman-shepherd mix, Toby, the exuberant, opportunist Lab, and Meadow, the playful, fearful Vizsla - swarm me as if they have not seen me in days, when in reality, they have been outside playing for only an hour. Although I was preparing to write my second paragraph, I set my laptop aside to return their joyful greetings.
At that moment, a firework goes off.
Meadow dashes into her crate, changes her mind, and bolts back out, deciding instead to cram herself between the wall and sofa, in the tiny space underneath my window shelf. When I stand to coax the panicked dog out from her precarious position, I accidentally startle Mew, the cat who had been perched atop the sofa. She leaps before looking and lands on Cinder, her slumbering companion. Cinder stares at her in surprised silence for a long moment before hissing and chasing her off the sofa. Prey drive ignited, Leah bolts after the frenzied felines as they whirl down the hallway in a ball of razors and fangs. I race behind them, and manage to prevent the impending slaughter.
When I return, Meadow is nowhere to be seen, and Toby is standing in her place by the window, lapping coffee from my mug. After I shoo him away, stimulated by the caffeine, he snatches a stuffed lizard from the toy box and shakes it vehemently, drawing Meadow out from the crate that she must have dashed back into during my absence. Stepping around the tugging canines, I grab my mug before they can send it flying, turn to get a new cup of coffee, and trip over Leah, who needs to be within two feet of me at all times. Hearing the commotion, Nick peeks out from the office and asks me why I am mopping the floor and cursing at the animals, instead of writing.
This is my life as a dog rescuer, cat wrangler, writer, and wife.
I’d love to share it with you, if you care to follow…
About my Work:
My short dog stories, “The Lead” and “A Brief Affair,” respectively won second place in the American Kennel Club's 22nd and 23rd Annual Fiction Writing Competitions in 2009 and 2010.
“A Brief Affair” also appeared in the Summer 2011 issue of Celebrating Greyhounds Magazine.
Currently, I'm polishing my first novel, a dog inspired suspense. Be sure to check back for updates on its progress and other writing related news.
Thanks for stopping by my blog! Comments and emails are always welcome.
- Donna Owczarek