Playing Tuba with My Dog and Other Stuff I Keep Meaning To Do
Hi! It’s been kind of quiet over here the past few weeks, huh?
I want to write, but I’ve been busy doing cool stuff: going to Austin, Texas and not so cool stuff: hanging out in airports for two days because a freak winter storm cancelled my connecting flight home and gross stuff: getting a cold.
I hate having my hermit-esque routine turned upside down, so it took me a while to get my act together. I’m back.
And now, here’s what I keep meaning to write about, in no particular order:
Fences: wood ones, metal ones, redundant ones, invisible ones, and ones with gates that fly open unexpectedly.
Leash Laws: enforcement, funding, and why there’s always a cop outside my house (hint: it has nothing to do with dogs).
Dog Nails: how much I hate to cut them, heaven-sent painkillers, and the trouble with posting photos of your dogs on the interwebz
Good Adoptions: stuff I learned from Birdie the Dog. About her adoption. Not about her new hobby: finding dead baby birds.
Relaxation Protocol: am I the only one that actually enjoys doing this? Judging by other blogs: yes, I am.
Plus much, much more!
Now all I need to get this done is an extra day in my week and a butler to deal with the self-generating hair balls that take over my house every 36 hours. And one million dollars (just in case the Universe is taking requests today).
Stay tuned. I’m on this!













