Good Moring gang:
Things are going pretty well. I walked a new world record yesterday. Close to a mile I think – went all the way to the end of my street, took a left and walked up S. Dillwyn. There was even a hill. The only thing is the damn dogs are dragging dawdlers. I’d walk. They’d stop without telling me. And I’d get yanked back to the spot where they were checking pee-mail. I felt like that dog in the old Foghorn Leghorn cartoons when he reaches the end of his rope.
I know, I know. One would think the solution is not taking the dogs along. That doesn’t work. If I let off down the street without dogs in tow the house would like a WWI no-mans with shredded newspaper, tipped over dog dishes, and other unpleasant left-behinds (behind being the keyword. The truth is theses dogs are running the show and I am just their servant. They let me stay because I haven’t told them the PIN to the ATM card. Once I do my usefulness to them ends.
I guess that’s it for now. Talk to you later if I survive.
Peace to all
Bill
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