All posts by Sheila Morris

Sheila Morris is an essayist with humorist tendencies and a passion for photojournalism. She has two published memoirs and a third published essay collection and has been blogging for three years as her alter ego, The Red Man, her rescued Welsh terrier. She is a bi-stateual living in South Carolina and Texas with her partner Teresa and their three dogs Chelsea, Spike and Red. Please visit her other blog I'll Call It Like I See It by clicking on the top of Red's Rants and Raves!

What is the Key to Happiness?



The Red Man’s Advice:

Do What Feels Good!

P.S.  This blog is part of a B&W Sunday Blog Hop sponsored by Dachshund Nola and Sugar the Golden Retriever – thanks for including moi!

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Bad News Everywhere

Well Amigos, The Red Man is in a bit of a funk today.  Huge surprise since I am usually jolly and upbeat and have nothing but good things to say about everyone.  Shit house mouse.

See there, nothing but jolly and upbeat.

Today, however, Pretty is missing in action.  She left us yesterday to go on a business trip up to the Mast General Store Mecca somewhere along the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina and spent the night away from Casa de Canterbury which means we have had to rely on the old woman Slow for our entertainment. Sad.  Very sad.

Now don’t get me wrong. We think Slow’s fine with the food, meds, vet trips, grooming excursions, etc., but when it comes to our daily fun, she is a bust.  Boring. Super boring.  For example, she is at a loss to find a TV channel to watch since the US Open ended Monday so she has returned to the Country Classics music station in the morning and TNT crime dramas in the afternoon.  Sweet Lady Gaga.  How many blue eyes are really crying in the rain and who cares if they do – except Willie Nelson obviously.

And why do Bones and her FBI agent/unrequited love Booth end every episode eating Chinese food with chopsticks and drinking wine with some kind of message music playing in the background…plus they stay so thin, too.  Amazing.  Amazing and predictable.  Slow just loves predictable.

Anyhow, the other thorn in my side has been the Ray Rice video.  No, thank you very much.  The Red Man chooses not to watch that, if you don’t mind.  Just hearing about it has been bad enough.    All this violence on the football fields surely spills over into real life, and real life violence isn’t limited to football players.  Turn off the a/c and open your windows.  You may hear more than dogs barking.

Unfortunately, The Red Man has no answer for these situations except to say Stop.  Stop.  Stop.  Don’t do it, and don’t put up with it.  And if you know about it, don’t ignore it and hope it will go away.

All’s well that ends well, as The Red Man is fond of saying, but clearly this situation doesn’t fall in that category. Nothing has ended well.  If only Pretty had been here, we could have had a sensible conversation with her and felt better.

Get me outta here Percy, I need to look for my happy pills…


Spike is a wreck without Pretty



Back to the Basics


red in the back yard sept 2014

Well Amigos every once in a blue moon The Red Man needs a little time by himself to ponder the meaning of life.

To each his own.

Get me outta here Percy…I’m meditating.

From Relative Obscurity to Minor Notoriety

Well Amigos, today is September 1st and 116 days until Christmas, but who’s counting…oh, well, it turns out I am.

Time marches on and takes no prisoners, if you catch my drift, and this is our four-year anniversary month in cyberspace adventures.  Since I will be fourteen years old in December, I have spent 28% of my dog life moving from relative obscurity to minor notoriety.  Sweet Lady Gaga.

Popularity changes as often as the wind changes its course, according to somebody, and how true it is.  However, when you start at zero, which is where we started four years ago, there’s nowhere to go but up.  The Red Man has trended up these past four years and slowly but surely our Amigos and Sports Fans have increased in numbers somewhat less than exponentially, but they have grown.

The Red Man’s editor, the old woman Slow, wanted to add actual numbers and graphs and charts about our progress over the years, but I put my paw down on that.  Boring.  Super boring.  Nobody cares but her and occasionally, Pretty, but even Pretty finds the whole discussion irrelevant to the happiness level at Casa de Canterbury.

I have to say I’ve enjoyed my opportunities to blah, blah, blah with an audience that encourages me in the process.  Fame and fortune haven’t followed, but it’s probably just as well.  The paparazzi can be so annoying.

So Happy Anniversary to moi and thanks to my followers who apparently hail from the four corners of the earth – The Red Man sends you Paw Snaps and Twirls tonight!

Get me outta here, Percy…





Gloom and Doom


Well Sports Fans, this will be short and sweet because The Red Man is dealing with a cranky editor today.  Yes, the old woman Slow is in a very bad mood after the season opener for her Gamecocks against her lifelong nemesis, the Aggies from Texas.

Briefly, and not to belabor any points, the Gamecocks had their ass handed to them on a silver platter last night (52 to 28, but who’s keeping score) by the military men from College Station, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.  They never even had to call for their Twelfth Man because the Eleven that were playing took care of business without any trouble.

And speaking of Pretty, it was so bad she went upstairs to watch the US Open Tennis while the rest of us stuck it out in the bleacher seats in the den with Slow, who was a total wreck by the end of the night.  Such language, my , my.  You know it’s football season when the language gets salty – and I do mean it was saltier than the french fries at the state fair.

Time for the Old Bald Coach to wave a magic wand over this flock of Cocks, or it could be a LONG season at Casa de Canterbury for The Red Man and his pack.




Oh, well.  It’s not about winning and losing – it’s how you play the game, right?

That would be, oh so very WRONG.  The Cocks had an 18 straight home game winning streak shattered

 Get me outta here Percy – here’s hoping all your favorite teams win this weekend and that you have more fun than we did last night at Casa de Canterbury…

BS (Before Spike)

Believe it or not, Spike hasn’t been around with us forever, although it seems like that most days.  Spike came to us via one of the Little Women of Worsham Street – one who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty.


The Pack Before Spike

The Red Man, Paw Licker Annie,

Smokey Lonesome Ollie, Tennis Ball Obsessed Chelsea


Relaxing at Casa de Canterbury

in the good old days

Get me outta here Percy.

P.S.  It’s B & W Blog Hop Sunday!

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One Headstone Too Many

Well Amigos, I have to say the old woman Slow has hit Beyond Thunder Dome this week, and here’s why.

First of all, she left AGAIN with her little suitcase and computer bag but only one week’s worth of pills so The Red Man knew she wasn’t going to be gone long.  When Pretty drove off with her and came back by herself, none of us really cared whether Slow was gone or not – as long as Pretty was here.

I knew she must be headed to Worsham Street for a sneaky visit, and sure enough that’s where she was.  Interesting.  We all miss the ‘Hood  but apparently only one of us is allowed to visit.  I sniff discrimination.

The Ansel Adams of digital photography she is not, but she did bring us a few pics from Worsham, and The Red Man was happy to see the old home place looked the same.


609 looks the same except for…


…super deluxe shiny red golf cart in the driveway

I always wanted one of those.  Sigh.


604 is as pretty as ever –

my favorite view from  between pickets in our fence at 609

So far, so good – but she just can’t leave well enough alone.  I swear she cannot go to Texas without making a trip to that cemetery…the cemetery where The Red Man had the Infamous Incident several years ago with El Toro Grande which is Spanish for the Big Bull.  No good memories are attached to that place for moi.  That was a lot of Bull to outrun, if you catch my drift.  I can still smell his bad breath, hot and heavy.  Whoa, Nellie, I’m getting the vapors just thinking about it.


 Good to see the oldest of the Fabulous Huss Brothers

how Slow ever talked Oscar into a cemetery trip is beyond me


Even Oscar knew something wasn’t quite right


Wait a minute – what’s this new one?


Hey, that’s MY NAME on this stone – stop smiling, Oscar – has the daffy old twit lost her mind??  Sassy, Annie, Ollie and RED…are you kidding me??  What kind of nut case is she – seriously…Pretty and Slow are very much alive, and so is The Red Man.  And now she has a HEADSTONE for us.  Well, I never.

Get me outta here Percy, I need a sedative for the nightmares I’m about to have from this vision. Deliver me from pre-planners.