Grazing, along Butler Street

I admit it. My dog is a beggar. And a schmoozer. And a flirt.

She's also hard-headed. Lately this has led to an interesting turn of events.

No longer does she want to walk by the river. Bunnies? Boring! Arsenal Park? Been there, she says, done that!

What is her preferred route these days? A stroll down Butler Street. It's a time-consuming -- and calorie counting -- exercise, I can assure you.

Minerva may be a mutt, but she's had a discerning palate since the day I met her -- at the pound. Concrete. Iron bars. Dry food. It's a wonder she survived.

The shop around the corner

Ever get the munchies late on Saturday night, say after midnight, and decide to make cookies or (cough) brownies? You've creamed the sugar with the butter and beaten the eggs when you discover you're out of flour? Will Shursave or Giant Eagle even be open?
Never fear! Lamont Gilmore is here!