Dogs...

I have two dogs, because if one is good, two are better.  Well, they are small, both under 18 lbs, and I anthropomorphize my animals, and think Pickle would be lonely without Punkin.  It is really the other way around, but only because Punkin is the little guy, now 6 years old, and Pickle is a venerable 10.  We don't have a fenced yard any more, so we must all go out on leashes.  Several times a day. The laundry room is our staging area for walkies.  There you will find a basket full of rolls of poo bags, fingerless mittens and socks for cold mornings, a wooly hoody, a light jacket, a raincoat, Birkenstocks, clogs, rubber boots, umbrellas, sun glasses.  That should cover every contingency.  Oh, wait.  There is also my baseball cap I got in Athens, for bad hair days.  I wear loungy things to bed, so I don't even have to change to go out first thing in the morning.  They are both really bad on a leash, my dogs.  And 18 months here in the Forever House have not improved their behavior.  I meant to get them into classes last summer, but went to hospital instead.  Lousy year, last year.  You never know, it could happen this year.