Dedication

Dogger is very sad. Nephdog went home this afternoon and now she is has no one else to stare at her toys. She is working through her grief by tearing on of her toys apart. I believe this is the “anger” stage of her grieving process.

She is also sad because she didn’t get a walk. I had every intention of taking her for her walk. I left work with the plan that I would be walking her, I was going to take her for a walk. But. I had to wait for Alphagal to come and pick up Nephdog. This gave me a chance to sit down and put my feet up, something I don’t get to do normally until after Dogger has been both walked and fed and frankly, putting my feet up was so much more attractive to me than a walk to the Post Office to pick up a paper I wasn’t even going to read.

I also had a Without a Trace taped and watching it would involve putting my feet up and not moving, while taking Dogger for her walk would involve moving and I decided I didn’t want to go for a move. I wanted to sit. Dogger could go run around the back yard instead. Or as it was, hide behind the shed.

We were going to go to the post office and pick up this weeks Irrelevant , er, I mean this weeks Independent. I had no intention of actually reading the Irrelevant - I get it every week in the vain hope that it may have magically morphed over the past week into something close to the much superior Dallas Observer but so far this has not happened. I am ever hopeful that one day it will get better. My fondest dream for them would be that one day instead of opening it up and seeing a 1300 word story on Raleigh's’ Hottest Bands I would find something about local business’ dumping contaminates into the water supply and how they got busted by the local alt press or maybe something about the people running for election in the area - and not just a reprint of their campaign literature or maybe digging into a local unsolved crime, anything but a run down of “hot local bands”. Hell, I would be happy with in-depth movie reviews. They have about 35 pages of personals and “escort” ads in the back it’s not like they are having to use food stamps to get cokes out of the office coke machines. It seems they could do more than they do.

Anyway. My rerun was good. Now I have to decide what I want for dinner. I could go the boneless skinless George Foreman route or I could go a field and find something I really want to eat - like a Burger King chicken sandwich! I love those or I could order a pizza!, but sadly, the going a field option also requires that I get up and I don’t want to. I may have to completely rethink my dedication to food I really want to eat. George Foreman is looking like a plan.

Dogger is sad now because I put her in her crate because she was doing the some weird doggy version of the butt dance with the under side of my desk, I'm not sure what stage of grief getting jiggy with desks falls under.