Happy Anniversary, Snowy. You came to me one year ago today and, in a house already filled with love and animals, you showed me that there is infinite room to add more love and animals. No matter what BuddhaBubba and Carm might occasionally mutter, and no matter how much the birds scream at you, our lives would not be half as full of love and fun without you.
No offense, Hillary, but would someone please make Elizabeth Warren run for president. Please.
Being a dizzy blond is fun. Being dizzy because you’ve puffed on a joint is fun. Being dizzy because you have vertigo and fall over if you turn your head the wrong way is not. If this is the flashbacks our parents warned us about, I, for one, am terribly disappointed.
Bubba doesn’t like the rain. She sleeps curled up on her bed for as long as possible without moving on rainy days. Then, when the poop and pee are about to pop out of her because she’s waited so long, she jumps up like she was shot from a cannon, races to the nearest pee pad, does what she has to in the fastest time possible and is back curled up on her bed before I can scream, “No, wait. Go out!”.
I guess ending my life as the chief pooper scooper for birds and dogs isn’t the worse thing
You’ve got to give it to him… just when we thought he couldn’t be more embarrassing, he went and one upped himself.
The good news is that mosquitoes are not half as bad as they were last year and I can sit in my office and get my work done without first having to smash a dozen of them against the wall.
The bad news is that their incessant buzzing and annoying hovering has been replaced by political ads.
The good news is that I can turn the tv off or use the mute button.
The bad news is that I have to because those damn ads make me long for a dictatorship.
My body will be found crumpled next to an overturned chair beside by office desk, a bloody magazine clenched in my fist and a dead mosquito on the back of it. I will go out swatting!
Today is my Bird TLC shift. It being summer, there will probably be over 50 hungry baby mallards, gulls and goslings waiting very impatiently for their meals. At this time of the year, you really, really have to love birds to keep showing up.
Because he is not polluting my television with commercials that make me want to take a shotgun to the screen.
“Will she remember to give me the chicken skin in my dinner tonight? Will she try to throw my toy out of bed just because it’s a bit moist from my gumming it? Will she ever understand how much the world will collapse if I don’t jump out of bed at 3 AM barking wildly at the noise being made by passing geese? When will she finally let me chase those fun toys she keeps in cages all over my house? Will I ever convince her that licking your own butt is actually kind of fun?”
Such are the deep