Cruel and Usual Punishment
People have asked me why Nick has an injured hind leg. Am I his keeper? (Most certainly not–my house lacks the necessary containment facilities.) Isn’t it interesting that he was also injured around this time about a year ago? And that he never seems to learn? (I’d be whistling casually at this point, except that I can’t whistle. Just one of the many skills I lack!) Anyway, in addition to his injury, which I may or may not have caused, he has been sentenced to house arrest in the basement (and is unable to climb the stairs, ha ha) for 4-6 weeks, or until his morale improves. Don’t worry–he has plenty of food and blankets, and his favorite Super Mario chew toy. And if the howling and wailing get too loud, his owner brings him butterscotch hot chocolate. This, like all fluids, must be administered with a baby bottle, because it’s hard to lap liquids out of a dish when you have a forked tongue.
I have it on semi-reliable authority that the convenience store nearest my house (Barker and Ray Becker) is being resurrected, with fried chicken to come! It was appropriate to learn this on the 22nd anniversary of moving into our house on the 9th. (Nick might object to being called a “semi-reliable source,” but he can’t catch me in his current condition.)
POINTLESS DRAMA CANNOT CHANGE
Someone who “doesn’t want drama” does not call 911 and say, “My husband is assaulting me verbally.”