“What started out 50 years ago as an annual party evolved into a yearly reunion and then a way of life. It’s sort of like a geriatric Big Chill.” Sam and Sarah are the elderly owners of a farm in central Iowa that turns into a private retirement community when it also becomes home to a disabled friend, a destitute neighbor and her daughter, and an expatriate artist. Together, this close-knit group confronts the hardships and disappointments of age and infirmity with courage, humanity and humor. But beneath the surface, this rustic “home away from the old folks’ home” is not everything it seems. One of its inhabitants is a killer. Another is her victim. How far will these lifelong friends go to help each other when their way of life is threatened? Witness what loyalty and sacrifice really mean to this unlikely group of people gathered together under one roof.
“What started out 50 years ago as an annual party evolved into a yearly reunion and then a way of life. It’s sort of like a geriatric Big Chill.” Sam and Sarah are the elderly owners of a farm in central Iowa that turns into a private retirement community when it also becomes home to a disabled friend, a destitute neighbor and her daughter, and an expatriate artist. Together, this close-knit group confronts the hardships and disappointments of age and infirmity with courage, humanity and humor. But beneath the surface, this rustic “home away from the old folks’ home” is not everything it seems. One of its inhabitants is a killer. Another is her victim. How far will these lifelong friends go to help each other when their way of life is threatened? Witness what loyalty and sacrifice really mean to this unlikely group of people gathered together under one roof.
...is for lovers. The movies focus on new love, fresh romance and the intoxication of discovery. But what about decades-long abiding love that has built upon those early heady days with a shared lifetime of experience? In this chapter of "The Last Best Thing," Sam seeks to recapture youthful passion with the miracle of modern pharmaceuticals. He fails in his original goal, but ends up discovering new depths to his 50-year love affair with his wife.
“The Last Best Thing” is told from multiple viewpoints. All of the main characters get a chance to tell the story from their own perspectives—all but one, that is. Joe, the character around which the entire plot revolves, remains voiceless throughout by virtue of being dead before the action even starts. So I thought it would be interesting to let Joe speak for himself and offer his story as a lagniappe (“a little something extra”) to augment readers’ enjoyment of the tale. As an added bonus, I encourage readers to join me for the Goodreads publisher-sponsored online book discussion taking place this month at https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/18002925-the-last-best-thing-reading-event I look forward to hearing your comments, exchanging ideas with you and answering your questions. And, for those of you who haven’t read the book, please feel free to test drive it on my website, https://www.KateSebeny.com
There are times in our lives when others support us (in childhood and, perhaps, old age) and times when we support others (our children, perhaps our parents). But what happens when old age finds a childless person without other blood relatives incapable of living independently any longer? A nursing home would fill the bill, though that’s rarely a person’s first choice. Imagine a farmhouse in Iowa where a group of lifelong friends come together at the end of their lives to support each other. Whether they’re related by blood or by chance, this family of friends is united by love, loyalty to each other and a commitment to their chosen way of life. Then what happens when one of the members of this “home away from the old-folks’ home” reaches his final days, days consumed by joy-sapping pain? Hospice care would be an option, but this sufferer wants to go out with a bang, not a whimper. “The Last Best Thing” is not about how one member of this family convinces another to bestow upon him the mercy society allows beloved terminal pets. The story is about what happens AFTER she does the last best thing she can do for her dear friend.
This is a creative nonfiction collection of essays that is ostensibly about my pets (although it's really about me).
You've got to love your pets because--face it--who else would? This essay is about one of my six pets (three dogs and three cats): Moxie, a very rambunctious young Russian Blue cat. My intention with this story goes beyond a rant about my pets' inconvenient idiosyncrasies. I hope it also reflects my marvel at their incredible individualities. This one is a backhanded love letter to Moxie, who I adore, despite my frequent vexation at his actions.
Every dog owner knows how heartbreaking losing your canine companion is. And anyone with two dogs knows how hard the survivor takes the loss of his pack mate. I’m sure many pet owners in that situation do the same thing I did: get another dog for your dog. In this case, I got two: Border Collie brothers. Naïve as I am, I thought that picking them out, paying for them, bringing them home, and furnishing them with food and veterinary care would make the puppies mine. Boy, was I wrong! The puppies were mine only for the duration of the car ride home. The minute we got back, my old grieving dog took over. Right from the get-go, the puppies were my dog’s dogs.
The holidays can be difficult for anybody under trying circumstances. But particularly so for owners of young pets.
For the past nearly two years, I’ve been writing amusing pet essays that have appeared serially in “The Dayton Leader” newspaper. I was just starting to think about the overarching theme for the eventual compilation of stories (something a little more literary than simply “here are a bunch of funny pet stories”), when I also began a proposal for a hard-research grant. With its emphasis on the impact of companion animals on human health, the request for proposals description issued by the Human-Animal Bond Research Initiative Foundation appeared to be a perfect fit. With health issues and six pets of my own, I had the ideal sample population with which to conduct my studies. I did a great deal of research and composed an application for what would likely have been a funded project—if only I could’ve found a way to satisfy the protocol requiring I be on the staff of a university research department. My grant efforts and research were not in vain, however, since I discovered the theme of “Rei(g)ning Cats and Dogs” in the process. It is, I hope, contained within “Pet Medicine,” a two-part essay of which this, “Rescue Animals,” is the second installment. I would very much appreciate your thoughts about this theme and effectiveness, and your expectations for the stories that follow.
For the past nearly two years, I’ve been writing amusing pet essays that have appeared serially in “The Dayton Leader” newspaper. I was just starting to think about the overarching theme for the eventual compilation of stories (something a little more literary than simply “here are a bunch of funny pet stories”), when I also began a proposal for a hard-research grant. With its emphasis on the impact of companion animals on human health, the request for proposals description issued by the Human-Animal Bond Research Initiative Foundation appeared to be a perfect fit. With health issues and six pets of my own, I had the ideal sample population with which to conduct my studies. I did a great deal of research and composed an application for what would likely have been a funded project—if only I could’ve found a way to satisfy the protocol requiring I be on the staff of a university research department. My grant efforts and research were not in vain, however, since I discovered the theme of “Rei(g)ning Cats and Dogs” in the process. It is, I hope, contained within “Pet Medicine,” a two-part essay of which this, “Zoonoses,” is the first installment. I would very much appreciate your thoughts about this theme and effectiveness, and your expectations for the stories that follow.
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