When We Get Bored, Bad Things Happen

Scarecrow is having hardware issues. His office at Bob's Books is right above the room that houses the Adult Day Care Center, so I can hear the crashing and thumping and muffled, but discouraging, words. It might be a bad time to remind him that he needs to call the vet to make an appointment for Ernie.

There's no mistaking when Scarecrow's mad. He has a crashing, thumping, hollering, foot-stomping temper. It can be quite the spectacle, but it never lasts long and when it's over, it's over.

Me, I'm one for the slow burn. When I'm mad, I'm surly and quiet. I'm slow to forgive, and I never forget. Scarecrow's way is better, really. It's easier on everybody. But everybody in my family was a sulker. I never learned any other way.

Anyway, Ernie has two new lumps on his leg where we recently had the latest one removed. We knew they were likely to regrow, but these came up really fast. His leg didn't seem to hurt before, but now it obviously does. His hind legs are weak. He has slipped and fallen on the hardwood floor a couple of times recently, and has trouble getting up. He has even left a few kibbles in his bowl, which is not at all like our boy. We always said that if Ernie ever turned down food it was time to call the vet because he must have one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel.

He is 12 years old, and I don't want to keep carving on him, but I don't want him to hurt. So we need to talk to the vet and see what we can do for him.

In the meantime, it's looking like a nice weekend and he still enjoys lying in the sun. As long as the dog bed isn't infested with whippets.

Um. About the bored thing. I've been messing around with my blog template. Let me know if I broke anything, OK? To borrow a phrase from every software developer I've ever known, 'It works on my machine.'