Life and Pets

Hello Sunday …

Hello to my kind readers too.

I’m sitting in the warm sun and thought I’d say hi. We still don’t have Internet reception at home and I’m typing to you on the 3G network. I don’t exactly know what 3G means, but I know that using it gobbles up our allotment of data that we pay for on our cell phone accounts. Someone told me that it has nothing to do with the cell phone signals, so go figure.

Doing without the regular Internet service is frustrating. We are always paid up to date, so I resent the interruption. Funny how we have come to depend on it.

Added to this is my continued angst about Junior not getting picked up. We have friends who have offered to take the dog, but I would continue to seethe about being lied to and/ or bullshitted by the parties responsible for this situation. I deserve better treatment, and certainly it is reprehensible how the owner has turned his back on his pet. I just thought of this; I should show up at the Valemount RCMP detachment tomorrow, “Hi, I have a dog for you!”.

If Junior had been turned over to an SPCA, I assume that he would have been deemed abandoned. He likely would have been euthanized weeks ago, or perhaps adopted to new, responsible owners.

I guess you get the idea.

All else is fine. We watched the Derby yesterday and enjoyed that race and others before it. We watched the interviews and stories. I drank just one mint julep with the requisite 2 ounces of bourbon, and was half corked and useless the whole rest of the day.

Today, as far as energy and ambition, and without a drop of liquor, I have been much the same. Other than the care of dogs, I’ve done very little. I’m wondering if I have chronic fatigue syndrome, or SADD, or if I am plain lazy. When I look at the flower beds, I want to cry; some that were completely dug out in recent years are again thick with grass. The very thought of working for days to restore order there is daunting.

You get the idea. Life is good and I’m too fat, and I am going to go have a piece of Kentucky Bourbon pie anyway. Maybe I’ll get some strength and drive back.

Love, Ann

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