I’m home with my little family of birds and dogs. There is lots of snow on the ground, the air is crisp and my finger tips are already cracking open and bleeding with joy. My house sitter, whose name I will not reveal for fear she will get so busy I’ll never be able to get her back when I need her, has set the bar high for my dogs’ expectations of what their day should be like. I try to explain that having her here was like their three weeks at a spa. They should enjoy it but know it has to end. I don’t think they like that explanation. I think they’re dialing a lawyer…BAD DOGS, BAD…GET OFF THAT PHONE…I WONT PAY FOR THAT LAWYER….YOU CAN’T MAKE ME…NO YOU CAN’T…..