Signs of Spring
March is already shaping up to be a better month than February was. For one thing, one of my advertising representatives sent me these today.
Granted, I gave up chocolate for lent and must therefore put them away in a drawer where they will mock me with their very existence for the next five weeks or so but, still! Chocolate frogs, people! It doesn’t get any better than this.
Speaking of getting better, Rowdie is recovering from his surgery quite nicely. He still has pain, obviously as would anyone who went toe to toe with a car but, his personality is unchanged and he is getting around on three legs quite well. The vet has every faith that he will recover fully.
My hopes for Hugh's recovery are not as high. He is plagued by guilt and, by plagued, I mean PLAGUED. He insists on being Rowdie’s sole caretaker, which, in all honesty, is perfectly fine by me since open wounds give me the heebie-jeebies and, a metal pin protruding from any part of the anatomy definitely qualifies as an open wound in my book.
Although he is healing well, Rowdie still suffers quite a bit of discomfort at night. His medication schedule is similar to the feeding schedule of a newborn and the resulting sleep deprivation has caused Hugh to resemble me circa 1996 and 1998, minus the leaky boobs.
So far. I promise to keep you all abreast of any change in the situation.
Sorry, couldn’t help myself.
The aroma of chocolate frogs, THAT I CANNOT EAT, has clearly addled my brain.