“So, how is everything that you haven’t been writing about?” asked a friend who, stating the obvious, wondered why I haven’t been posting as much of late.
Life has a way of becoming quite full:
–I work a 7:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. shift. In reality, it’s 6 a.m. to 5 p.m. when you figure in the time to wake up and commute almost an hour. Mornings? everyone wonders. Days? Isn’t the money to be made at night? Yes, mornings. And yes, money is to be made during the day. I asked for the day shift after dealing with drunks who’d been knocking back booze all day before I came on the night shift. Nothing like cutting someone off at 5:31 p.m. The result–I have full-time day shifts, am building a nice following, and am happily content.
–This past Saturday night, the other girl no-called/no-showed, so it was a long, long double, followed by doing it all again Sunday morning to cover her shift. Not that I am complaining, because the money is always welcome. The bonus: I now permanently have her Sunday morning shift.
–Then there was the ill-fated watching of the Westminster Dog Show. What, no Bostons in the final group? Which led to my wondering whatever happened to Rouletta’s puppies, which was followed up by my contacting the breeder from whom I’d gotten Rouletta to ask about those puppies, which ended with my hearing that Rouletta’s puppies were doing well on the show circuit–and my agreeing to take on another 6-year-old retired female show dog.
“She’s a little overweight after her last litter,” the breeder warned me. “And be careful getting her and Rouletta together right away. It’s been two years, and they probably won’t remember each other.”
A most rotund bowling ball on legs arrived arrived at Fort Lauderdale Airport this past Sunday evening, just as the hockey game went into overtime. I hauled her out to the curb as my great guy patiently circled around listening to the game on the radio, Rouletta in the front seat with him.
When I freed her from her crate, Miss Fatty huffed and puffed and snorted and sniffed. But the minute she saw Rouletta, it was kisses all around. Who says dogs don’t have long memories? Fond memories.
Thus, I now have to transform another kennel dog into a house dog, which I had conveniently forgotten about doing with Rouletta. So far, so good, but a lot of work to do.
Meanwhile, the stories are swirling about in my head, and I’ll write them soon. As my aunt said during a recent phone call, “You have three different books in you; at least write one of them.” I will. And I hope to soon post more frequently as well.
But first, I have to get a pork chop pup in shape.
Comments
9 responses to “Unwritten Stories”
Rouletta looks so happy!
“Pork Chop” doesn’t look too bad and the two of them are simply ADORABLE! Good luck!
What cuties! I have a Boston and he’s the love of my life! He looks a lot like the dog on the right (I’m not sure their names!). I’ve been reading your blog for a while and am thoroughly hooked!
Connie–I think she is. At least she doesn’t seem to be jealous!
Binx–Oh, porky needs to lose a third of her weight!
Katy–Rouletta is on the left, nameless fatty is on the right 🙂
My Boston needs a buddy!
It is so good to see you back, RG. I have missed good writing on the blogs.
How nice for “No Name” to have a good home and a good (if X-ray) pal to show her how to be a housedog.
I hope all is well.
I just saw this!!! And… PIGLET PUPPY IS PRECIOUS!!!!!! I am in LURV!!!!!!
Your a good man Charlie Brown…..
taxi cab orlando
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