Lots of people have been asking me about Becca. Well . . .
Between you and me, sometimes I wonder how to take better care of her. She is my responsibility, after all. I adore her and I know she adores me, but there's only so much I can to do to keep her out of trouble.
She's sometimes impulsive -- when it comes to throwing herself into the investigation of a local murder or, frankly, dating. I'm pretty pleased with with the newest guy in her life, but she's brought home some doozies, let me tell you.
She's kind of klutzy which worries me, especially when she's sneaking into places she shouldn't be sneaking into. I prefer it when she takes me along. I'm much better than she is at sniffing out danger (and nearby bacon). I've spent a number of sleepless afternoons on the front porch hoping she's okay. I"m always relieved, thrilled and a little surprised to see her make it home in one piece.
She takes very good care of our South Carolina farm that's full of sweet strawberries, big pumpkins and fresh air. I'm not allowed into the refurbished barn/modern kitchen where she makes the jams and preserves she sells at Bailey's Farmers' Market, but that's all right; I understand. She's all about food handling rules and regulations.
She is frequently late getting to Bailey's, and she doesn't make her bed very often. But she's also got a big heart, a great truck, yummy treats for me, and the ability to find that perfect spot to scratch right behind my ears. I think I'll keep her. She is my person, after all.
Nice to meet you.
Becca Robins' housemate/dog