Category Archives: Nob Hill


On the bed Nob Hill Thursday afternoon *** I first visited San Francisco when I was 16. I was very unhappy growing up in New York City, and San Francisco seemed so clean, colorful, and magical. I knew I would live here someday. That “someday” came in 1996, at a time in my life when […]


On the windowsill Nob Hill Thursday afternoon *** My brother Clyde and I were happy living with our human companion. My stomach would hurt sometimes, and so did Clyde’s, but hey, we were no longer spring chickens. Some wear and tear was to be expected. Then one day our human was gone, and other humans […]