Snip Snip

My puppy is at the Humane Society today, getting his cute lil' hairballs snipped off. A word to the wise: when dropping off your pet at the HS, remember that only a small percentage of the people there will have actual 9-5 sort of jobs to hurry to; arrive early. Don't expect other pet owners to handle their nearly-feral rugrats. Oh, and dogs have absolutely no balance in moving taxis.

I found out that Cormac has kneecaps that pop in and out of joint, which explains why a simple misstep can make him whine and limp once in a while. It also means that arthritis is nearly certain in his later years. (With my weird hand, I can only assume joint pain is in my cards as well.) I suppose I'll have to give th' old boy knee massages.

I pick him up at 4:45-ish, and we'll take a hopefully un-eventful taxi ride home. Then i will coo to him and spoil him and agree that nothing quite so terrible has ever happened to a puppy and yes he does deserve another treat, thats the VERY least I can do to counter his suffering. And tonight I will be hit in the nose serveral times, I assure you, as he tries to lick my face over the edge of a plastic funnel-collar. I'm a lucky woman.