Lunch, because it was in Marin, where decent eating is a disruptive concept, was pretty darn mediocre. Only barely helped by hot sauce. Shortly after that I accidentally overturned the bucket of dog treats and had to pick them up, in consequence of which my fingers smelled like carrion. Dogs, I like. Their gustatory tastes, not so much.
One of the dogs has pegged me as the source of cookies, as well as a soft touch. Having given in several times already I tried staying out of sight of those soulful trusting eyes.
It was painful.
I miss the little dachshund who always regarded me with suspicion.
There seemed to be more of an intellectual challenge there.
Would he take the biscuit? Or hide under the chair?
I am always surprised when unpleasant old men have rather nice dogs. It's almost like the hound is the more human one of the two. Also, dogs seldom spout unprintable and unpalatable political nonsense.
When I return to work in a few days, I fully expect unseemly statements, and reports of natural disasters in consequence of democrats controlling the weather to keep richly deserving rotten pumpkins out of power. Plus wild accusations of evil conspiracies, and microchips. The judicial member in particular seems to be losing it.
Today he whined about Soros and liberal child killers.
Quite the gibbering monkey.
He is also fearfully worried about the future.
I applaud his paranoia. It is deserved.
And I intend to encourage it.
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