We have a Pomeranian living a few doors down. Looks like a fox crossed with a powder puff, but a very cool dog. Spriggy doesn’t meet many dogs that make him feel like a big one, so occasionally they touch noses and tangle leashes and play.
It occurs to me these days that I have very little to say. Others, they would let their blog lie fallow in these times. Others would fill the space with enervating accounts of trips to Target. Me, I aim for something in between. Truth to tell, the world is calling me outdoors, and the wifi doesn’t reach past the back door.
So let’s take the coward’s way out — another Sopranos thread. Personally, I think this season is off-the-charts great, but the restless crowd at TVWoP begs to differ. Last night’s episode revolved around comic relief Artie Bucco, but I didn’t even care. Christopher’s gift-basket grab was hysterical. What do people want? Non-stop whackage? The only thing that makes these awful folks tolerable is seeing their little moments of humanity. Yes, even when Artie killed the rabbit.
Back after oxygenation.