How is it possibly Friday already?
The Casey-dawg seems to be getting better and better. She’s off the soup and on canned dog food now, and this afternoon she even had a little of her dry food mixed into the canned stuff. I’m hoping I can start letting her go outside without supervision soon, too.
In the course of all this, Decker has been wondering why the supply of snacks has dried up, not understanding that I can’t possibly bear Casey’s big ol’ brown eyes staring at me as I give Deckie a tasty treat that she’s not allowed to have. As a result, the house overfloweth with doggy sadness.
On the writing end of things, part 7 of Pete, Drinker of Blood is moving right along.
Meanwhile, I’ve been watching episodes of Project UFO (thanks to Mel Smith) here and there when I get a chance. This one’s for you, Ian Tregillis:
You know, 5-year-old me remembers those opening credits as being MUCH more epic. Where’s the time-traveling bastard who went back and cheesed up the 1970s?