I had written this long, poetic diatribe of my life, my puppy, and the aftermath of this week’s reunion, yet in Googling how to spell "Cujo" (the appropriate moniker for my darling Lila Belle) it refreshed THIS window, distroying my article (which really is a shame, since in my sleep deprived state, I tend to mix metaphors more often than usual, and really, who doesn’t want to know about a picture being worth a pot having a lid after a stitch in time?) But alas, that’s reality, that’s technology, and instead of pseudo-Pulitzer articles, you now get a bulleted list.

  • Thanksgiving was lovely. It’s not until you’re again around little kids (especially if you don’t yet have your own) that you realize how funny and darling they are. Hi, heartstrings, thanks for talking to my biological clock.
  • The reunion, especially the Friday night o’ debauchery, was a blast. I’ve put up the pictures, and will apologize in advance for the lack of any and all witty captions. (See: Lack of Sleep, above.)
  • My dog, normally a 12 on a one-to-ten scale of energy, today woke up at a 7,549. (See: Definition of Cujo, also above.) You know it’s gonna be a bad day when your 22-pound 10-month-old puppy blocks the door and literally WON’T let you leave your home. Either that, or when I seriously started examining her for Rabies. One guess on who’s about to have to take a 2-hr walk/run in the rain with a needy puppy…
  • See, below, darling needy puppy. She may be Cujo, but she’s MY Cujo.


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