Sunday morning musings...

Although Pickle had surgery on Friday morning, she was back to the old Pickle by that evening. I have a page of instructions on dealing with the damage, only to find there isn't any, according to the Pickle. She happily jumps on and off the couch. She plays ball. She goes outside and lays in the dirt. We had a serious talk last night, and I told her if I find any Pickle guts on the floor, her ass is grass. Didn't slow her down a bit. The incision looks just fine. And pain pills? We don't need no stinkin' pain pills. Of course, I gave her one, anyway, hoping it would slow her down a little. No luck there. I don't know whether to be happy or not. Certainly, health and vitality are no problem when you are only 6 months old. Poor Boo whined and moaned for days after getting his ears cleaned out. We went through many pain pills and lots of hand-wringing. What a difference 10 years makes. Meanwhile, it is full fall here, as evidenced by the plethora of leaves on the front psuedo-lawn. After the meeting, I think I will bundle up in my sweats and rake, thereby setting the good example for the rest of my leaf-blower crazy neighborhood, though raking makes no noise, so no one will notice anyway.