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The Tao of Eve

By Lisa Scottoline

I love sleeping with dogs.

But sleeping with a puppy is a different matter.

Let me explain.

You may know that I recently added a new member to my family, namely Eve, who is now a seven-month-old cavalier King Charles Spaniel. She joins my other two Cavaliers, Boone and Kit, who are almost fourteen now and differ on their opinion of her.

Boone loves Eve.

Kit wishes her dead.

I’m hoping he comes around.

Spoiler alert: He’s not going to.

But so far he’s not trying to kill her.

And Kit has his adorable moments with Eve. Like this morning, I took them out for a walk, and he peed on her leg.

By the way, it was raining.

So I actually got to watch a demonstration of “don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining.”

Which is the perfect description of my second marriage.

This is only one of the many great things about dogs.

In any event, I love sleeping with Eve, but she’s very busy all night long.

At this point you’re wondering why I don’t put her in a crate.

Because I tried to in the beginning, but she cried and I’m a big softie.

Luckily she’s never peed on the bed and told me it was raining, but she is an insanely restless sleeper.

First, she loved to bring her toys on the bed and squeak them most of the night.

I took away the squeaky ones, and she started playing with the ball, rolling it around the cover, then on my body.

I took away the ball, and she would jump off the bed and find my socks on the floor, bring them up, and drop them on my face.

Then I picked up all my socks and took away all the toys and she found a way to amuse herself, running up and down the ramp that leads to the bed.

I couldn’t take that away because I already felt heartless.

Plus how else do you get a dog onto a bed?

Where she will disrupt your sleep.

Obviously, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. The sensible thing to do would be to put the dog in a crate and a moat around the bed.

But not all decisions are sensible.

That’s why God made divorce.

Meanwhile every single piece of furniture in my house has either a ramp or a set of little wooden stairs, but Eve loves to chews wood, so she makes a meal of those stairs.

She’s on an all-wood diet.

She eats doors and baseboards, and now my place looks like I live with a woodchuck.

Now you’re probably asking, why don’t you spray the wood with that stuff called Bitter Apple, which is supposed to make dogs not chew wood?

The answer is, I do, and Eve thinks it improves the taste of wood.

It’s the dressing on her wood salad.

She would drink Bitter Apple if I let her.

And when she’s not eating wood, she’s running around outside, finding a rock, and chewing that, too.

In the beginning, I started taking the rocks from her and putting them on a pile on the table. Now the table holds a pyramid of rocks, like oranges at the grocery store.

I should sell rocks.

Or I could spray them with Bitter Apple, then Eve would have a rock casserole.

I took her to puppy kindergarten and puppy elementary school, and next week we start puppy middle school.

After that, puppy Harvard.

She learned all her lessons, including Leave It, which I now use forty-five times a day, when she finds a sock, chews wood, or eats a rock.

And she Leaves It.

Until she finds something else.

This is all by way of saying, I love this puppy.

She’s completely adorable, despite all the puppy things she does.

Or maybe because of them.

She’s simply an incredibly affectionate ball of fluff.

When she finally settles down to sleep at my side, she has an adorable snore.

She loves to snuggle and kiss, which is a job requirement for any animal I live with.

Actually she’s a Make-out Queen, but I won’t elaborate.

She loves people, other dogs, and fun in general.

All the time, every minute.

Even at night, but that’s okay.

Life is to be savored, all the time.

And that’s what Eve reminds me.

Copyright © Lisa Scottoline 2025

Heavy Petting

By Lisa Scottoline

I was in New York and something great happened!

Let me explain.

I was there last weekend visiting Daughter Francesca, and we did a million things, including go to the Javitz Center to Meet the Breeds, a dog show where you can see dogs of all varieties, and pet them and kiss them.

Of course, we have dogs at home that we can pet and kiss.

So God knows why we paid thirty bucks to pet and kiss other peoples’ dogs, but there you have it.

We love dogs.

It was a great time, then afterwards Francesca had somewhere else to go and I went back to the apartment to watch the Eagles in the NFC playoffs, which I did with Flat Bradley, a cardboard cutout of Bradley Cooper.

It’s way more fun than it sounds.

And we won!

I mean the Eagles.

I also won, because Flat Bradley is the perfect man for me.

He doesn’t expect dinner and he doesn’t want my money.

And the sex is great.

You can follow along on my social media, where I post all the pix.

Except for the ones that are NSFW.

Back to the story.

The whole weekend, I was taking cabs and whipping out my credit card left and right. The day I packed to leave, I was missing my American Express card.

I had no idea where I lost it.

Before I go further, let me tell you that the last time I lost a credit card, I was also visiting Francesca in New York City. It was my Visa card and it dropped out of my pocket as I walked along the Hudson River. I cancelled the card, but later that day, a woman emailed me through my website to say she’d found it!

I love New York!

After that I vowed to never carry a credit card in my pocket.

Now I carry my credit card in my wallet.

But I manage to lose it anyway.

I know.

I’m amazing, right?

I’m Queen of Unforced Errors.

The proof is that I got married a second time.

Anyway to return to the story, I was walking to get a coffee before I called the credit card company, and I walked in the door of the coffee shop, it struck me that I had been here two days ago.

So I took a chance and asked the barista, “By any chance, did I leave an American Express card here?”

And the barista asked, “What’s your name?”

I did not answer Mrs. Bradley Cooper, even though I have the mug that says so.

I answered, and he said, “Yes, you left your card!”

And he handed it to me!

What?

Amazingly, I’ve lost a credit card in New York on two occasions and both times, New York gave me the card back!

What a city!

And that morning I walked to the car, carrying my coffee and Flat Bradley.

You think New York has seen everything?

It’s hasn’t.

On the sidewalk, every head turned.

Drivers in cars pointed and laughed.

Yes, I had a walk of shame with a cardboard celebrity.

And we’ll be watching the Super Bowl together, me and my corrugated man.

Go Birds!

Copyright © Lisa Scottoline 2025

Good For What Ails You

by Lisa Scottoline

These are turbulent times.

I have a cure.

A puppy.

First, let me state the obvious.

Don’t get a puppy if you’re not going to take care of it forever.

I assume I’m talking to responsible adults here.

But now, let’s be real.

I got a puppy and I am in love.

There is no illness a puppy can’t cure.

I’m having the best time ever, throwing balls for her and holding nylabones while she chews them.

I feel sure that every minute I spend is adding time to my life.

My deadline is going to hell but I’ll worry when I’m dead.

The absolute best thing to do with the puppy is sleep with one.

In your bed.

Under the covers.

I know, it sounds weird.

Maybe you have something better to sleep with.

Like a man.

Or a woman.

I used to sleep with men, and none of them was as much fun as a puppy.

That’s just the truth.

I think it begins when we’re kids and we sleep with stuffed animals. I had a pink rabbit named Pinky, and I still have her.  She’s ancient but she looks good for her age.

Or maybe I’m projecting.

I don’t know who started kids sleeping with stuffed animals, but it’s an absolutely great idea. I loved Pinky, and now I have a little puppy who’s the size and shape of Pinky.

And I’m a kid again.

Our story begins with me putting Eve in a crate next to my bed at night, which is what I read you were supposed to do. But she would wake up two, three, and four times to go out. I would take her out each time, she’d pee, and I’d give her a treat.

The next day, I was tired.

Very.

Then I started to worry that she was waking up for the treat and/or the attention.

I figured this out because I used to kiss her all the way downstairs and outside.

Listen, I’m a good kisser.

Not to brag.

So last night, from the outset, I put her in my bed instead of the crate.

And instead of waking up four times a night, she slept till 7:30 in the morning.

And I got the first good night’s sleep since I got her.

Plus it was fun.

Like, so much fun.

Eve just cuddled up at my side, nestled in my flannel nightgown.

This is sex for middle-aged women.

Now we sleep together, old lady and new puppy.

I’m well aware that some of you might be grossed out at this point.

I say this because I once wrote a character that slept with her dog under the covers, and my editor said it was disgusting.

Really?

But it’s cold at night.

How can I cover myself and not the dog?

I’m also aware that there are people who don’t allow their dog on the furniture, much less the sheets.

I admire them.

They set limits I never could.

They’re never wearing more dog hair than their dog.

They probably balance their checkbook every month.

And they marry the right guy the first time.

Me, not so much.

But it all turned out alright in the end.

Me and my little furball are having a great time.

Bottom line, whatever gets you through the night.

Copyright © 2025 Lisa Scottoline