
I know...I haven't updated this blog in so long that several politicians have had sex scandals in the interim...oh wait...that was only a week ago.
by Lisa Duffy-Korpics - Lyons Press -Globe Pequot - trade division of Rowman & Littlefield. -Twitter @ldkdogcatcher
"This is a wonderful book. I had a hard time putting it down. I was laughing and tearing up, sometimes at the same time! I didn't want it to end..."-Nina Killham, Bestselling Author of Believe Me, How to Cook a Tart, and Mounting Desire
"Having good writing skills isn't a prerequisite for getting a job as a dog catcher, but the two certainly make a good combination for the author of Tales from a Dog Catcher...Some stories are funny - some may move you to tears. I may be barking up the wrong tree, but I think they will appeal to animal lover's and even those who don't care for pets will enjoy reading about the eccentric people involved in these tales from a dog catcher." ...Phyliss Davidson - INFO Metropolitan Library System Magazine. Oklahoma
"Summer reading! Enjoy tales about hero hounds, crazy cats. Great dog books just made for Summer Reading! ... Here's a list of some of our favorite books ... Tales from a Dog Catcher by Lisa Duffy-Korpics is a collection of real stories about people and the animals they encounter...this book is in the tradition of "All Creatures Great and Small" by James Herriot. The stories are funny, sad, uplifting and even silly." ...Laurie Denger - Dayton Daily News. Ohio
"...In Tales from a Dog Catcher," author Lisa Duffy-Korpics recounts her years as an animal control officer in a series of fascinating and engaging stories...the stories can be funny and heartbreaking, often simultaneously...However, there is no shortage of entertaining encounters. Animal lovers will appreciate the candid tales, and enjoy a new perspective on an often unexamined profession."...Dog Channel.com
"Lisa's numerous on-the-job adventures are compiled in this collection of sad, charming, delightful and humorous short stories. ...Animal lovers of all ages will appreciate Lisa’s recollections of her memorable encounters with domestic animals and injured wildlife in the beautiful Hudson Valley." ...Rachelle Nones - Tri County WOMAN magazine. New York


Americans overuse the word love. I know this to be true since I heard it on TV last night; on a high profile network no less. So of course, it must be true.
I don’t think Americans, or anyone for that matter, overuse the word love. Maybe I don’t think it’s used enough? What's more, who decided that it’s overused? Who decided the scale we should measure love by? Perhaps there should be an organization designed to determine the amount of love one should feel in different situations. Perhaps something like “The Ministry of Love”. No, that sounds too provincial or like an album cover... in America it would probably be called “The Department of Love”, much like the D.M.V. but less confusing and with shorter lines.
Who’s to say that the woman making dinner for her five young children after working an 8 hour day doesn’t love her microwave? Why can’t we love our favorite movie, or a color, or certain type of Pinot Grigio?
“Here my darling, I’ve been saving this wine for a special occasion. I really intensely like it and I’m sure you will be exceptionally fond of it too.”
“Oh, yes” She takes a sip. “I absolutely find it way beyond adequate!”
The thing about love is that it truly is indefinable. It means something different to whoever is feeling it. Feelings are intangible things by nature, so therein lies my problem with people telling us that we should have a limit on it.
Maybe the word should be reserved for the absolute peak of experiences, the most reverent moments, the most important rites of passage. Maybe it should be reserved for permanence, a word not to be taken a chance on something potentially temporary? Does love fade away? Yes, sometimes it does. Is love sometimes taken away? Does it cause us to run towards things, or sometimes to run away from them as well? Yes, I suppose that’s true. But isn't the chance worth it?
Does love change? Absolutely it does…the love a child feels toward their parents is a complicated and cyclical thing – beginning with intense need, moving along to admiration, than to disappointment that no one is perfect, and with any luck moves back to admiration and respect once again. Love affairs begin with chemistry and excitement, the physicality, the peaks and valleys are volatile, exciting and addicting. When they level off into maturity, some may think that they’ve fallen out of love but if they’re lucky, it’s turned into something deeper and solid. Can those we love die….our brains know the logic to this, but our love doesn’t.
So how can the word love be overused? It can appear, disappear, change, be given or taken away, it can be brief; it can be inconsistent, misunderstood, simple, complex, fleeting or forever. What it can’t be is defined. I watch my children sleeping and I remember them as babies and I know I will always see them that way as they grow taller than me . I loved them then and now, sometimes it’s easy, and sometimes it’s painful, but it’s still love. My mother told me that love was an action, not a word. I think she knew that I'd need to remember that when she was no longer here to guide me when I became a parent myself. She gave me a memory of selfless love.
On the first warm day of spring when I sit outside on my deck, with my dog on my lap, among the trees and quiet in the sunshine…I feel it. What do I love? Trees? Sunshine? Peace? My dog? My deck? It doesn’t matter. I can’t define it and I don’t want to…I just love it. I don’t want to rate or measure or count the amount of times anyone should say it. It’s not my job, and it’s not the job of the news to tell us this either.
It comes, it goes, it’s difficult, it flows, it’s hard to find and it’s right behind you at the same time waiting for you to find it back. Don’t define it. Don’t analyze it. Just turn off the news…and be grateful for it.


JASMINE MARCH, the zaftig heroine of this wickedly funny first novel, is a Washington cookbook writer who pines for the days of Louis XIV, ''when men were gluttons and proud of it.'' Jasmine herself has a prodigious appetite: her husband, Daniel, fell for her when he spotted her eating a tarragon chicken croissant with near orgasmic rapture. Jasmine moisturizes with olive oil, perfumes herself with truffle oil and has explored the erotic potential of snail butter.
On the book's first page, Jasmine discovers a corpse (the tart of the title) sprawled on her kitchen floor, bludgeoned to death with a rolling pin, a homemade brownie stuffed in its mouth. The book is nominally a whodunit, but the madcap, faintly macabre plot is really just a vehicle for Nina Killham's witty social observations.
I own this book, as well as Nina's other two, Mounting Desire and Believe Me, however since I'm packing to move they're in a box in my bedroom where I can't get at them. This was easily fixed by downloading it onto my Kindle.
My son is now shoveling the deck so the next round of snow and ice won't be too much for it to handle. My daughter is shoveling a walkway for the dog since we'll lose her in the drifts otherwise. I'd be out there too if I didn't have the spinal infrastructure from hell - so I'd better go clean or pack something before everyone hates me. After I'm finished though - I'm going back to the Kindle.

Phoebe's Schedule
5:00 AM – Snore. Open eyes when Man yells upstairs for me to go out. Fake sleep. Grumble and moan when he yells again. Go outside. Bark loudly when done so Man can bring me back inside. Go back to sleep.
5:10 AM – Yawn, stretch, look soulfully over at Woman who is getting up at this inhumane hour. Go back to sleep.
5:15 AM – Go downstairs and bang bowl around with head so Woman will get the hint and stop making her coffee and get me breakfast. Have a few bites. Go to Boy’s bedroom door and push door with head and snort. Give up and go upstairs and back to sleep with Girl.
6:15 AM – Growl, bark and attack the blankets when Woman wakes up girl.
6:20 AM – Yelp, growl, bark, whine and spin around like a demon dog when Woman tries to wake up Girl again. Sigh and get up. Pace back and forth making sure to weave in and out of human’s legs. Stay close to human’s legs to keep them warm. Get yelled at when they trip.
6:30 AM – Go downstairs to Boy’s room again. Push door with head repeatedly. When it opens immediately run under Boy’s bed and start eating objects found under bed. Get yelled at.
6:50 AM – Take position on top of sofa staring out window on to street. Observe humans leaving and getting in their car. Bark at them like you don’t know who they are.
7:01 AM – Go back to sleep.
9:00 AM – Get up and eat. Go back to sleep
11:00 AM – Dive bomb unsuspecting cat. Chase cat until she runs upstairs but don’t follow, (too much effort). Go back to sofa. Sleep.
12:00 PM – Sleep. Wake up and bark at falling leaf. Bark at elderly couple taking their walk, bark at cars driving past house – made them go away. Go back to sleep.
2:30 PM – Wake up and jump all over Boy. Lick Boy’s face. Go outside and run circles around front yard. Come back inside. Try and get back into Boy’s room to eat more small objects. Chew on some headphones. Get thrown out of room.
2:45 PM – Mailman arrives. Bark, snort, wail, jump on and off the couch, grab throw pillows with teeth and whip them around. Good – made him go away. Go back to sleep.
3:00 PM – Wake up and greet Girl. Jump on her lap and look in her book bag. Stick head deep in bag and extract tasty items like gum, candy, pencils or paper. Get yelled at. Go back to sleep.
3:15 PM – Wake up and greet Woman. Wag tail and snort. Stand in front of bowl and act like she forgot to feed me. Eat food forgetful Woman puts in bowl. Go back to sleep.
5:00 – 7:00 PM - Nap on sofa. Go in kitchen to see what’s cooking. Sit down and look pathetic . Drink water like I spent the day in the Sahara. Make sure to splash water onto the floor. Go investigate something good in the trash. Get yelled at. Go in bathroom and eat tissues. Go back to sleep.
8:00 PM – Greet Man. Wag tail and snort. Pretend I haven’t eaten to get another snack. Watch big box with lights. Go back to sleep.
9:00 PM – Yawn and stare at humans so they go upstairs to bed. Moan and sigh and walk with head down when being taken outside. Bark when done and race back into house. Jump on unsuspecting cat when she walks by sofa. Get hit in head by cat. Push Boy’s door open with head until door opens. Dive under bed and make lots of scraping and snorting noises. Get picked up and taken out of room. Nap on couch to wait for bedtime.
9:31 PM – Go upstairs to bed. Spread out on side of the bed on Woman's pillow. Look surprised when she moves me. Grunt and sigh and dig around the blankets for a good spot. Spread out and stick paws into human’s eyes, ears and back. Go to Sleep.





It is an enormous struggle to find words that express great love, because love is so vast, so intangible. It is beyond description. So I tried to find a way to describe Laila in a way that would truly illustrate who she was and how she lived her life.
And the word I finally came up with was an angel. An angel on earth that walked among us. But that in itself is a word that I believe needs explanation, because there are so many things that angels do. So I looked up the definition of an angel in both secular and biblical references and here is what I found.
A kind and lovable person
One who manifests goodness and selflessness
They are revealers, who show us what we are sometimes too blind to see
They are guides, who take our hand and guide us when we’ve lost our way
Providers who provide physical needs to others like shelter and food to the homeless and hungry
Protectors who keep you away from danger….and deliverers - who pull you out of danger once you’re in the midst of it
They strengthen and encourage those around them
They are those who God chooses to use as intermediaries to answer prayers.
Laila was all of these things. And what makes this so incredibly amazing is that while she was growing up – there were many times in her life where she could’ve used her own angel to guide her through the many difficult roads she had to travel. How could such a beautiful gentle soul endure so much pain in her young life – and become someone who embodied everything that is good and selfless and kind? She became a loving wife to Frank- I believe with divine intervention since he is an angel in his own right, and together they created a life together and a marriage that lasted for 45 years. She was a wonderful mother – who protected and guided and loved her children beyond measure.
She opened her heart, and her home to others who were less fortunate. You may wonder why I am the one writing this? It’s because I was one of them...one of the less fortunate. Many turn the other way when they see a child being abused or mistreated – especially when the last thing they need is another mouth to feed – another problem to deal with – but she didn’t. Maybe it was because when she needed someone to help her when she was that age – there had been no one willing to do it for her.
35 years ago she took my hand and promised me "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you anymore" and in that moment became more than a friend, or my neighbor...she became my mother...she revealed a future I couldn’t see, protected and delivered me from danger, and changed the course of my life.
I’m not the only one with this kind of story. Looking around at the wake, at all the people sitting around in chairs honoring and celebrating her life, I realized that if it were not for her and of how she lived her life – some of those chairs would've been empty - not because of choice, but because the people sitting in them wouldn't have been alive to be there …the one my own father sitting on being one of them. If that doesn’t explain who she was, and how her legacy of love lives on. Then nothing can.
Her sharp sense of humor would surprise you sometimes. She’d put a plate of food in front of us and one of us would say;
“It’s hot”
And she’d say “Well – yes…it wasn’t cooked in the refrigerator!”
As children, she would encourage our mischief and delight in our laughter. I remember helping to make meals with Janie, while dancing and singing to the Blues. She’d pretend she didn’t know what we were up to – but I know now that she always did. Half the time she was the co-conspirator.
She could stop your tears and make you laugh – and then make you forget about what you were crying about in the first place.
She was an exceptional Mom.
Laila leaves her loving family, her devoted husband Frank of 45 years, her beautiful daughter Jane and her husband Kurt, her lovely daughter Donna and her husband Jeff, six grandchildren, including her beloved grandson Tommy, who along with her wonderful daughters Donna and Jane and her best advocate and wonderful son-in-law Kurt, sat with her until the end. She is also survived by her devoted sister Gloria. She was predeceased by two children, three brothers, and her beloved Pekingese Shadow, all of whom are finally together again.
Ancient Egyptians believed that upon death – they would be asked two questions, and their answers would determine whether they could continue their journey in the afterlife.
The first question was; “Did you find joy?”
The second question was; “Did you bring joy?”
And that is how I know where she is now.
