B.B. Boudreau

Novelist | Singer

The Great American Sweet Spot

Is this you? Born between WWII and 1990, some semblance of white middle class, educated beyond middle/high school, house owner, car owner (maybe multiple), steady job, possibly retirement plans in place. Then you–and I–hit the Sweet Spot. This is not intended to brag, shame, or judge. It could be a slap on the forehead, the…

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Small Things II–More Piping Plovers

I search out the plover mom and the chicks in the creek, just south of Good Harbor Beach, where tidal water fills and empties twice daily from the marsh. I almost step on them in my quest. They are huddled in a shallow trench that someone dug into the wet sand. The mom breaks and…

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Hey Sailor . . .

After a dogless six months, we brought our new boy, Sailor, an eight-week-old Australian Shepherd puppy into our house. Changes to our routine are now well established by COVID. While the shutdown has been an interruption, without a dog, we’re now free to stay inside until we actually have to go out, rather than being…

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A Two-week Dog

My friends all know about the dog I lost in September 2020. She lives like an angel embedded in my memory, perfectly behaved, most beautiful face, smartest, well trained, understood hundreds of words, Best Dog in the World. To add height to that already noble pedestal, she lived to be 17, spending a couple of…

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Her Last Day

She is panting for no reason. The day before she seized several times. During one episode, she fell, peed herself and landed on her side at the brink of the open stairs off the deck. I had to catch her to keep her from falling down the flight. Last night she woke me twice and…

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Parallels

It never occurred to me that caring for my mother in her last days’ journey with Alzheimer’s would be repeated only several years later. My dear dog and faithful companion Lila has turned the corner into her twilight days. Certainly there are physical similarities; loss of faculties (sight, hearing), loss of mobility and energy, but…

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Pulling Away from the Casket

I felt like I had never been to a funeral. I am 55 years old and have at least several dozen funerals under the soles of my feet. Still, I stood at the casket trying desperately to see her through that drawn, plastic expression creased with makeup she would never have worn. The hint of…

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My Invisible Hero

My mother is nearly absent from the memory book of my first ten years. Only a few episodes remain in my subconscious film strip. Two stand-outs occurred when I was about six years old. One was when she whisked me to the sink to whack my back, dislodging the nasty morsel of melon lodged in…

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We Need Help

I have discovered in life that when you are in difficulty, there are all kinds of blessings that pop up from nowhere to provide respite. You simply have to anticipate them and recognize them. There were facts and fears coursing through my head the first days that Mom was living with us. I had never…

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Settling In

I jumped out of bed (more like groaned; remember, this was just months after my back surgery) the first day Mom lived with us. We were taking care of Mom! This was the ultimate gift to a parent, and right when she needed me most. I was the dutiful daughter. We would make our home…

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