Drats. There is something wrong with my hip. (There is something wrong with Linda's hip too, but that is a chronic issue.) For the last two days, I've yipped every time Linda has touched my hinder-parts to pick me up. If she puts her hands on my belly area, I'm fine. But if she puts her hands lower, it hurts. I know lots of people don't pray for animals, but I've been healed from my seizures, back knees dislocating and acute pancreaitis (I totally made up that spelling.) Linda is praying I'll be OK and won't need any surgery.
"I hate the Vet's office so much it makes my hair stand up like Don King!"
Linda has invited some friends over tomorrow evening. You know what that means, right? It's going to be another round of cleaning. Honestly, she loves to clean so its not a problem. She just cleans areas she sees but not in closets or storage rooms. Someday her goal is a 100% clean house and garage. No junk draws, storage rooms, messy closets and most importantly... to be able to actually use the garage for what it is attended for. After cleaning, she is going to make an apple pie and some cookies. It won't be Sarah's famous apple pie or Taylor's amazing chocolate chip cookies, but they will still be good.