I realize it’s the 28th, and it’s time to write Cecilia’s 11 month letter. I try to put a lot of thought into them, and I need to let it marinate some more. In the meantime, I have a Lucy story.
This past holiday weekend, we had our backyard fenced in so Lucy wouldn’t run off (and so I could stop screaming about bathroom appliances to the neighborhood). It was supposed to be finished on Monday, Memorial day, but due to several days of rain and the contractor shooting himself with a nailgun, it wasn’t finished until Tuesday. Considering the circumstances, I was pretty understanding. Hell, I was just happy to have a fence. Lucy, on the other hand, was not.
On Tuesday afternoon, I took her out to our newly encased backyard. She did her usual bolt from the backdoor to the tree that squirrels like to perch in. This time, however, she ran right up to the fence, promptly turned around, and looked at me with a “WTF” facial expression. It’s been three days, and she’s still doing it every time. In fact, she’s refusing to willingly pee and poop in protest. You have to yell at her to get her to do the deed. I think I just traded, “HAIRDRYER” for “GO POTTY!”.
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