J.D. Faver's Blog

I have always had cats. I seem to be a cat magnet. They find me and know just how to approach me to be assured they will be taken inside, fed and spoiled.

How, you ask, would a certified cat lover be able to lose her heart to a small, stinky and yappy dog? Let me just say, it was by degrees. You know...Like how you fell in love with your kids, because, let's face it. They stink. They turn your life upside down. They want to eat when you want to sleep, and vice-versa. You have to spend all your money on them and more that that...all your time.

I'll start at the beginning: I was having a day with my younger granddaughter, who is great fun to run away with. Shannon and I had been having an adventure and were at the Sonic, where we had just loaded up on large ice cream shakes. We were headed across the parking lot when two teen girls came walking toward us holding this tiny little black puppy. And my lovely Shannon said, "Look at the little puppy." She said it in that tone of voice that conveys such intense want and need that the grandparent is forced to respond. Shannon, of course, reached for the puppy and the girl, of course, handed it to her. See where this is going? I called my daughter and described said puppy and she replied, yes to Shannon's request. So when I dropped my granddaughter off, she was with pup.

Very shortly after that, I was with pup. Daughter and family live on several unfenced acres and small pup required frequent walking. Pup was also prone to chew...not on anything specific, but on everything she encountered. After listening to much complaining, I heard the news that they planned to take her to a shelter because she was just too energetic and was wrecking their household.

Let me just say that my daughter is a very smart person and she's known me all of her life. She knows all my hot buttons and how to punch them with great finesse. Yes, I drove out to the boondocks and back, said puppy in tow. I told myself, "Don't get attached. You have a full time job and work long hours. Dogs are not self-sufficient like cats. Just find a nice home for this little beastie." That was the plan.

I shopped for her. We have toys. We have small tennis balls. We have a Frisbee. We have a braided rope toy. I have to take her out in the fenced back yard to potty and for me to give her some exercise (and me as well) I have to throw her toys. She is so small that she trips when retrieving a regular Frisbee. And her energy level is endless. Side note: Her one trick is to fetch. This is because she has learned that if she does not bring the thrown object back and drop it at my feet, I will go inside. No, I do not fetch.

All this time, I kept telling myself, "I'm too old for a dog with this much energy. She needs a family with a six-year old boy to play with her."

The first thing I did was to invest huge wads of cash in small yappy dog. I paid for a year of vet care at Pet Smart which included all her shots and spaying and free visits. That was a chunk of money to invest in a free dog. The vets fell in love with her and so did the very handsome young vet-tech who kept referring to her as my "Little Girl" and telling me stories about his "Little Boy". I swear, Dog People are twice as crazy as Cat People.

It was on one of her visits to Pet Smart that I made a startling discovery. I was leaving Pet Smart one sunny afternoon on my day off and a thirty-something daddy was walking across the parking lot with a cute little boy about 6 years of age. My dog went into her adorable act and the little boy fell on his knees to pet her. It was love at first sight. The dad said, "That is the cutest little dog." To which I replied, "Want her?" The dad got down on his knees and was very agreeable to taking her right then and there. This was exactly what I had been praying for. Right in front of me, the very fulfillment of the prayers was manifested.

And then my dog turned and looked up at me with her little beady eyes. Those little beady "I love you" eyes.

Oh my God!!! I LOVE HER! I gave myself a pep talk about how this was the perfect opportunity to rid myself of this little pest forever...but she gazed up at me with such love and trust, and furious tail-wagging. I took a deep breath and picked up MY dog before wishing the man and his son good luck in finding a suitable pet. I got in the car and just held her for a long time before starting it up and driving us home.
~JD Faver

(Open letter to my Garnier Nutrisse shampoo and conditioner)
Dear GN,

I have been going steady with you since first we met. However, lately I'm not feeling the love. Yes, I'm breaking up with you.

From the moment I first saw you on the shelves, I was attracted to you. You were so good-looking in your sleek containers and rich green color. I couldn't wait to take you home. From the very start, I fell totally in love with you.

Yeah, you have always been a bit difficult to get to know. That snug little cap that some young product designer thought would set you off has proven to be a detriment to our relationship. There are times when you just won't open up to me. I've begged you... "C'mon, baby...Spill it..." But to no avail. The only way for me to get to you was to pry you against the ceramic shelf built into my shower.

I have begged you and cursed you and broken my nails trying to get to your inner core, but you don't seem to care.

When I do manage to get you to open up, I fall in love with you all over again. Your product makes my hair clean and silky and it smells great, but lately I've been asking myself, is it worth all this trouble and sacrifice on my part when you obviously don't care about my feelings?

I have to confess that I'm in a new relationship now. I took home another product, a great big handsome bottle of Pantene. True, Pantene is creamy and white as opposed to your gorgeous transparent green, but I'm asking myself, do I really want to put something green in my hair? Pantene is truly supportive and easy to get to know. He's bigger and bulkier than you. Yeah, I can go for that...a product I can get my hands on. And he opens up for me all the time. From what I can tell, this Pantene really gets me.

So, have a nice life, Garnier Nutrisse...See ya around, but I'm sticking with the one that loves me back...
~J.D.
(The opinions expressed above, belong solely to J.D. and may not be shared by her blog-mates...)

by J.D. Faver

If my title brings to mind a Willie Nelson song, then you might be a redneck, a country girl or a cowboy. I was raised on a farm in southwestern Oklahoma and moved to Texas as a teen. When I say a farm, I'm talking four sections of land on which my family farmed and ran beef cattle. For those not in the know, a section of land is 640 acres, so this was a sizable farm. In Texas however, the preferred term is "ranch", even if it's just a few acres.

Of course, as a writer I call on every mega-byte of early memory to write about ranches, horses, and farming. The smell of horses, hay and fresh turned dirt is unforgettable. The taste of home-made biscuits with clover honey is not the same as those that come in a tube and have something out of a plastic bear squirted on them. Not the same. Likewise, the guys who go to the western wear store to get duded up for rodeo once a year are as close to real cowboys as the little plastic bear.

Yep, I'm quite fond of cowboys. They don't gush out flowery speeches. They play the cards close to their vests, but the real cowboy is a rare breed and definitely worth cultivating. Who do you picture in your mind when you think of a cowboy? John Wayne? Clint Eastwood? Tough guys with a tiny little soft core and a set of staunch values they would rather die than sacrifice. And if you're lucky enough to be the wife or sweetheart of one of those cowboys, you have yourself a real prize.
One of my favorite movies is Legends of the Fall, with Brad Pitt as Tristan, the younger brother who crossed the line and paid for it by banishing himself to a life of loneliness, living out in the wilderness. What a waste!

One of my first novels to be released was BADLANDS, which is set in the Texas panhandle not too far across the state line from my Oklahoma roots. I like lots of conflict in my novels, and one of my favorite themes is opposites attract. My heroine, Cameron Carmichael, is a doctor from Houston with a new license who inherits her great-aunt's humongous cattle ranch. The hero, Breckenridge T. Ryan, is a neighboring rancher who happens to also be the small town lawyer. So he's handling the estate and has the task of telling the heroine that she has to live on the ranch for a year to inherit. The following is a short excerpt in which Breck converses with his father after he has finagled an invitation to supper at the heroine's home.

~*~

Breck was grinning when he got back to his ranch that afternoon.
His father was leaning back in his recliner, his usual position. “What’s going on, son? How come you’re smiling from ear to ear?”
“I’ve got a date, Dad.”
“A date?” Zachery Ryan drew back in mock amazement. “Who’d of thought? Is this someone I know?”
“I don’t think so. I’m going to dinner at Silky Carmichael’s house and I’m taking her great-niece to the Eagle’s hall for a little opportunity to polish my belt buckle.”
The elder Ryan raised his brows. “I think I met her one summer when she was a teenager. Pretty little thing, but shy. She wouldn’t say a word.” He pushed his glasses up on top of his head. “As I remember she was a mite skinny.”
Breck considered. “She may have filled out a bit since then, Dad. She’s slim, but she’s got some nice curves going for her now...How come I didn’t meet Silky’s niece before?”
Zachery frowned in recollection. “I think that was your freshman year at The University of Texas. You were doing two-a-days at that time.”
Breck ran his fingers through his hair. “I wouldn’t have noticed a teen-age girl back then anyway. My head was into football and making the grades.”
Zachery shook his head. “I think even you might have noticed this little one. She had the prettiest blue eyes, but she always looked so sad and lonely. Quiet as a mouse. Kind of tugged at my heart. Silky told me the girl’s parents had been killed in a car wreck and that she was seeing to the girl. I remember thinking, ‘What does a wild woman like Silky Carmichael know about raising a young girl?’”
Breck felt a pang of sympathy for Cami. Silky was a dear friend, an astute rancher and a local charmer, but he didn’t think her character was filled with warmth and compassion. She’d probably have done better fostering a boy. He figured the shy, sensitive girl left in her care hadn’t experienced much in the way of motherly love.
He headed for the shower, thinking that his imposed invitation to dinner hadn’t been exactly the smoothest thing he’d ever wrangled, but the important thing was that he’d have a good reason to be holding the enigmatic Cami Carmichael in his arms all night long.

~*~

And here's a little peek at the couple after dinner when Breck is driving her in his pick up through the small town to the Eagle's Hall where a live band will be performing.

~*~
Cami stared out the windshield, admiring the million stars flung across the black velvet sky. She realized how rare it was to see stars in Houston where the city lights outshone any display the heavens might offer.
The town of Langston had closed up for the night. Only a convenience store, the Mexican restaurant and a steak house stayed open until ten. Otherwise, the businesses were darkened.
The Eagle’s Hall was located on the far edge of town. When they pulled up, Cami saw that the unpaved parking area was filled with row after row of pickup trucks.
“I’ll let you out in front.” Breck idled by the wooden double doors at the entrance.
He leaned over her to swing her door open and she felt a surge of desire as his muscular torso pressed momentarily against her thighs. A rush of cold air gave her a much needed reality check. “Go on inside where it's warm,” he said.
Watching the truck drive away, she felt bereft. Suddenly shy, she was loath to walk inside by herself. They weren’t dating. They weren’t a couple. She shouldn’t have any attachment to Breckinridge T. Ryan at all.
“Hey, Miss Cami.”
She spun around to find Frank trudging toward her across the gravel parking lot.
“Frank! I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He flashed his dimpled grin. “I told you this was the place to be. Can I walk you inside?” He held out his arm to her.
She glanced around, but didn’t see Breck and decided not to brave the elements any longer. Taking Frank’s arm, she felt steely muscles under his jacket. She realized the brown-eyed boy escorting her was a full grown man of approximately her same age.
Entering the hall, she encountered a blast of heated air by the front door. She hurried inside and looked around. The lights were low and the band hadn’t yet mounted the raised stage. She was aware of a room full of people. Most were sitting at long tables ringing the dance floor. Others milled about visiting from group to group.
A small table was set up close to the entrance and Delta Ruth Peabody sat behind it with a roll of tickets in her hand. “Come right on in here, Doctor Carmichael,” she said. “Frank, are you dancing with your boss tonight?”
The door opened again with a rush of cold air and Breck appeared by her side.
“This one is mine.” He slapped some cash on the table and received two tickets in return.
Cami raised her eyebrows, meeting Frank’s amused expression with one of her own. She wasn’t sure if this was the time to remind Breck that she was most definitely not his.

~*~

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