Rosie is currently having a book written about her life called Afterglow so she is not really interested in any more exposure than what you see below.
Honey’s a modern miracle. Last Autumnal Equinox I was innocently sitting in my truck doing alternate parking when my once dog walker came up & said hello & we shared the details of our lives in my case why I was not a dog owner anymore. Maybe you want to foster said Melissa. There’s a pit bull rescue woman on the block and of course in about an hour I had committed to fostering Mindy for the weekend. She was a small submissive pit that someone would take off my hands on Monday. Then an email and these pictures came through. Cheri, the pit lady was urging me to foster Honey instead of Mindy. Honey was a young very beautiful high energy pit who would be put down that day at 1PM. When I read the email it was 1:06. I quickly wrote Cheri back and began praying like a clown. The idea was to get Honey out of the shelter and away from her execution (her crime: having been there two weeks. That’s it for a young pit) and we’d figure out her future later. My fostering her was the first step.
A van from the city shelter arrived the next day and someone brought right up to my door a large golden pit on a rope & I wasn’t even allowed to keep the rope. The dog was deposited in my apartment and she began to bark. I had owned a pit before, the great Rosie, but my dogs after her were tiny chihuahua cattle dog mixes, 8 and 12 lbs. respectively so my dog scale had altered and to me Honey was pretty big. I was a little scared. OK she rocked my world. In the first month I was hurting my knees from walking uncountable miles and my arms were practically out of their sockets from pulling and lunging. She’s a strong girl, there’s no two ways about it. Now I feel responsible for this little saint who has given me the river in New York and all the many bridges for getting to it. She’s given me the river in winter. I’ve gotten really strong and she’s gotten much less scared. She had the worst abandonment I’d ever seen in a dog. If you forget something and have to go back to the apartment before taking a much needed walk she simply follows you instead of refusing to go in like a normal dog who simply knows what she wants. Honey wants to be with you. Usually me, but you too. The world especially at night is interesting to her. She likes nature but she really likes neighborhoods the best. She likes to prowl. She was a stray in the Bronx and was brought to the shelter twice either because she was actually “found”, or because she was simply being abandoned again. One of the dates she was returned to the shelter was my birthday, Dec. 9, so I’ve decided it’s hers too and that she’s a Sag. She’s got something else for sure. I don’t feel we have the same moons or rising signs. But her mind is her body and vice versa and we get along pretty well. She’s what you call leash aggressive which means on the leash she might act like the murderous pit bull of legend and that’s kind of a drag but when she has the chance to be on her own steam I’ve seen her play hard with young dogs and old dogs and Honey is absolutely not a fighter, I even suspect that’s why she was abandoned at least once because she didn’t have a taste for the ring. Both times it looked like she was going to get in a scuffle with another dog she was the victim. Her tongue got bloodied in Provincetown after playing with a silly old dog on the beach and in the winter by the East River another pit bit right through her beautiful winter coat, a down jacket of which she had been very proud. I got her another and honestly I got her a house in Texas which is where she is spending the fall while I tour. This dog is an angel, emotionally sound. She came with the name Honey because of her fur and her eyes I guess. In Gaelic her name is Mil and I call her that as well. She’s not a philosophical dog like Rosie was but Honey travels the world on curiosity and love. If I’m drinking my coffee in the morning she impulsively throws her head on my lap and looks up at me with a deep satisfied gaze. I have given her a home which we both agree is the best thing there is. And then we both like to roam.
He is my cat from San Diego and he was in door outdoor, hated living in an apt. in New York and didn’t really like my girlfriend either. He now lives in El Paso where poet Bobby Byrd reports that “some mornings he's like a young cat again and after breakfast he goes outside and gallops into the tree.” So my cat is aging without me which I’m fine with but am a little puzzled why all my animals are living in Texas right now. Do they know something?