May 18, 2003

Taking care of two melancholy greyhounds and three nervous cats is hard work. If I don’t chase them around the yard, my sister’s dogs just stand there and look at me. If I step on a twig while I’m walking them, they jump to hyperspeed. My shoulder is back in its socket now but I’m still wounded about what happened this afternoon. I set down my perfectly silked-up iced coffee to put the leashes on and one of the dogs freaked. She trampled my beverage. It popped like a water balloon. That iced coffee had potential that will, sadly, never be realized.

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