Okay, I Take It Back

I failed at Little Friday Eve this week, and was feeling like the PowerPoint slog would never end today.  Then, I got this in my email, and found enough energy to do one more post about something that might make us all happy.  This dog.

I like to think Russell Jenkins loves me like this.  I know he looks out for my cold feet and is super cuddly when I'm sick, but his physical limitations make omelette production unlikely.
I like to think Russell Jenkins loves me like this. I know he looks out for my cold feet and is super cuddly when I’m sick, but his physical limitations make omelette production unlikely.

Whatever, RJ.  If you could, I bet you would.  And, I’d bet Red and Fern and Hilo and Cyrus and Fred and Gus (all the dogs I know, with the exception of Hercules, who don’t care about nothin’ but my dad) dream of doing something just like this for us.  I, for one, am ashamed at how quick I am to forget RJ’s unbridled excitement at my return home from work … or the bathroom, the kitchen, or foyer, actually.  I should just say, “Hey, you wanna get up on my lap while I’m trying to knit the most complicated sweater in the history of sweaters?  Come on up, fatty!” or, “Hey, did you just eat ALL the cat poop out of the litter box?  Way to go, superstar!”

I’m going to try to be better and more appreciative tomorrow — it’s easier, somehow, on Little Fridays!

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