I don’t know what it is about spring, but it feels like new beginnings to me. Maybe it’s all the sunshine after so many cloudy days. Could be the thawing of my feet, which seem to stay frozen through winter. I always feel like cleaning house as spring begins to bloom outside. It’s that spring cleaning, need a fresh start, I guess. I say I feel like, it but right now I don’t have the time. I have a book due in another month, two (She Who Dares, Wins and Truth and Dare) coming out over the next two months and grad school is CRAZY with deadlines this month. Still, I had to at least clean off my desk. It always makes me feel so much better if I can see the wood underneath. And as the weeks go on I’ll do a bit more. When the book is finished, I’ll go through this mad cleaning spree (I always do). When this happens, my husband comes home and says, “Who are you? And what have you done with my wife?” I’m not kidding.

I took a few moments to take some pics so I could show you some of the other signs of spring around the Havens’ household.

Gizmo loves to play in the mud as you can see from his face and paws. Time for a trip to the Beauty Shop.

If we don’t brush Scoobie every day, we end up having dust bunnies the size of Godzilla as her winter coat sheds.

I woke up the other day and the pear trees had bloomed overnight.

It won’t be long before those gorgeous smelling Gardenias bloom. They make the front entry so fragrant.

My husband’s rose bushes are also starting to green up. I love the way the flowers make the house smell.

Tell me what spring means to you.

Happy Spring Y’all!

I’ve had fun thinking about the Blaze Authors Pet Project over the last couple of months. I’m looking forward to highlighting some animal characters in upcoming books and cheering on the good works of the shelters we’ll be featuring on the Blaze Blog.

But for now, while I’m in pet mode, I thought I’d share with you some of my personal favorite pet moments. Because I grew up on a farm, with room for animals to run, I usually had some four-legged friends in residence. German Shepherds have been a lifelong favorite—I just like their sweet natured side juxtaposed with the ability to work hard and be fearsome protectors when the need arises. These dogs chase off the deer—and lest you empathize with the deer, let me remind you what havoc they can wreak on a farm if you don’t keep them away. They don’t even like pumpkins, at least not the ones we grew, but without dogs to keep them away from the fields, the deer can ruin plenty of would-be jack-o-lanterns just by sauntering through the fields, mindless of where their hooves step.

Unfortunately, my pics of my favorite German Shepherds were grainy affairs that don’t do their cute mugs justice. Instead, I’m showing off a dog we had when I was a teenager, Yukon, a Samoyed Husky. Oh, did I love him! He couldn’t show off his working dog skills since I’m not much of a musher, but I think I trimmed a few dress sizes taking him for walks. He loved the snow and shunned his dog house to sit outside in our most frigid temps. He was completely happy and at home in the winter weather, dragging me all over the hills and orchards behind our house in a quest to run off his boundless energy. When I finally collapsed in a heap, he was usually kind enough to give me a break for a few minutes. If he spotted a rabbit while we were out though, all bets were off. Wild horses couldn’t have held him back.

Back home, I liked putting my feet up with a cat when I returned from the dog walking.

While Yukon retreated to his corner of the yard to chase snowflakes, I liked to hang out with the felines and read a good book. Sebastian was one of many cats I had over the years, sometimes two or three at a time. You can trace my interests and time of life by the names of the cats from Tigger (I was obsessed with all things Winnie the Pooh) to Smokey and Bandit (it was the era!). Later in life, I had Kiki (named by my sons) as well as Whiskers (also named by the kids) to Duchess (doesn’t she sound like she was named by a romance writer?). But the name Sebastian surely came from my teenage interest in romance heroes.

And while I was hunting for pics of past pets, I came across Teddy, the unimaginatively named Teddy Bear Hamster. I was probably eight or nine when I had him, and I still had a Teddy Bear named Teddy, his stuffed bear wife named Mrs. T, and then I christened the hamster along the same lines. Maybe that’s why I never got around to naming a hero Theodore… I must have burned out on that one early on. But I had to share my picture of the hamster since I took his photo next to something else that shared great significance in my young life—my books! I still show off those Nancy Drews prominently in my home.

I’m looking forward to sharing the Blaze Author Pet Project with you in upcoming years. Romance and pets are such a natural connection, after all. We know how much our readers adore their pets. One rule of writing we learn early on is that you can kill off whoever you want in your books, but don’t even think about hurting the dog!

** Have any fun names from pets past or present? Did you name your poodle after a favorite cartoon character or your cat after a soap opera star? Do share! I’m giving away a copy of my latest Scots historical, IN THE LAIRD’S BED to one random poster.

I’m dog sitting for a couple of weeks, something I like to do. People keep telling me I need a dog. No, thank you. I’ve had a dog–a miniature dachshund. Sure, I’m a dog person, but after years of caring for beasties, both human and canine, I’m ready for a break. Dogs are work. Just look at the two with me now. Although HINT: they had a tempting start, I’m sitting outside watching them as I write this and by the time I got to this sentence, I’d been out of the chair three times to check on them. The first time, they were eating the bushes–seriously, they uproot them and chew. The second time, they were both way too interested in the corner of the grill, sniffing intently and pawing. I had to investigate in case they’d found a toad. See, toads have a toxin in their skin and dogs who eat them go on a bad trip, as they used to say. Apparently there is foaming at the mouth, disorientation, and failure to recognize humans. I do not want to verify this. The third occasion was because, even though they’d had a yummy breakfast of dried dog food, they were eating, uhm, disgusting material. Good times.

And then there is their stuff. They arrived with two crates, eleven chew toys, two baby gates that had to be installed, bowls, collars, leashes, harnesses, two kinds of treats, about ninety-five pounds of dog food, Benadryl, glucosamine tablets, a giant dog bed, four blankets, and three single-spaced pages of instructions.

I know what some of you are thinking: get a cat. But that’s because you’re cat people. Dog people are thinking: at least there’s no litter box.

So which are you? Dog person or cat person?