Shane is standing by the door; there is no way he is going outside again – since he was just out – because the big wind has brought rain that is pouring down. I do not want to smell wet dog; I do not want to have a wet dog shake on me. He feels the spirit of adventure, I think, seeing himself standing noble-like, face into the wind. I’m sorry Shane, but I’m just not up to letting you be your Walter Mitty self today. So go climb in the big leather chair, curl up and dream Lassie dreams.

I was awakened this morning by Alison telling me Tiffi has a sore on her tail; Summer had already let the idea of a sore on a tail grow into a fear of a tumor on the tail. So Alison and Robert took Tiffi to the vet he thinks it’s an infected sore on the tail. She got an antibiotic injection that keeps working for two weeks. Unfortunately, the vet mentioned if it hadn’t healed by then, he would do a biopsy. He just mentioned it – as a follow up thing.

I started thinking about a cat tail in a cast – the image just popped into my mind – but I am not going to mention it because I think Summer will not think it a humorous image. And that is not a mood we want her to be in.