West and south

Stories are just piling up in my head and popping out, aren't they?

A couple of days ago I took the hog dogs for a walk. We had missed a few days due to painting and weather. Baby is a perpetual motion machine. Sort of like a bigger Jack Russell. On steroids.

I found a pair of capris that are almost perfect for dog walking. They are from that store, Ben and Jerry's or Fred and Bob's, whatever, where everything in the store is just above free. You get what you pay for. There are great cargo pockets, more than enough to hold a full bag of dog poop, my keys, my cell phone for emergencies, and extra poopie bags, plus my pedometer. They also come so low on my hips that I can take them off without undoing them. Out of consideration for others, I wear a long shirt.

We had walked about two miles and Baby was still chomping at the bit to go, go, go. She normally behaves well and doesn't pull, but she prances and lets me know she is no where near done. Another dog came into view. The lady and I waved at each other as Baby started to bark, howl, and generally play the fool.

Baby also started jerking her leash and my right arm as hard as she could. Molly had been straining against her harness, also, and chose that moment to have her soft palate issue act up and started to chuff. She could barely breathe and was struggling for each breath. Baby was still barking and pulling me to the west, and my pants started to go south.

Bored? No, I may be retired but I am never, ever bored.

We are off to get Molly her monthly shot. She is zoned on 15 mg of Valium and 'roided up on double her prednisone. She gets a blood draw too, for electrolytes. Both dogs hate the car. Both go with me, since they are never separated. I hope Wiz didn't run off with the credit card again because this shot is very expensive.