BUSYBUSYBUSY

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I have been busy filling out forms, filing forms, downloading forms, emailing forms, mailing forms . . . have I missed anything that can be done with forms? And I have more to do. Early this afternoon I have an important appointment that will lead to more forms, I'm sure, and I'm already aware of other decisions that must be made that will lead to––what? FORMS!

At least it keeps me off the streets.

I saw an ad for a movie on the Hallmark Channel titled The Curious Caterer, but I thought it said The Curious Catheter. That made me laugh.

I have another boo-boo, but not all bloody like the last time (the link is to the post with the bloody wound in case you didn't see it the first time around and you're wondering what I'm talking about). If the sight of boo-boos turns your stomach, though, scroll down real quick past the photos below with your eyes closed. When you open your eyes maybe you'll be on someone else's blog and you'll have completely missed The Wound of The Week, kind of like when there used to be The Movie of The Week. Boy, that was a long time ago. Anypaw, Princess caused this wound. She is not allowed to paw at me because, of course, her paws are large and very rough. Her nails can be sharp.

Princess is a very good girl, but sometimes we all make mistakes. On Sunday, Princess put her paw on my left arm and before I could say Princess, no, which is the standard thing to say according to her training, or remove the paw, she cut a line near the crook of my elbow like a kid who had joined a '50s style gang and had pulled her shiv on me. I don't remember what I said. I didn't yell at her. I might have said holy shit or something else equally intelligent because it hurt. She knew something bad had happened and hopped down from the couch to watch me from the dining room. She had the worried look on her face that dogs get when they know something bad has happened and they're involved but they don't know what's wrong so all they can do is look like they wanna say holy shit, too. So we were both distressed.

I washed the wound and band-aided it. Here it is Monday with and without the band-aids.

 It's still a little sore, but no big deal.

See how the one without band-aids has a shadow on it so those of you with queasy stomachs won't have to rush off to barf? I tell ya, I can come up with some pretty fancy photography when necessary. 

Steve Reed at Shadows & Light wishes he could take pictures as good as mine.

My wounds probably look much worse than they really are because my skin is made out of tissue paper. It rips, turns red, and bruises if I barely bump in to anything. That's because I'm a decrepit, old person. 

Except I'm not all that decrepit. It bugs me when I watch a movie and somebody retires at 65 and the character is hobbling around, barely able to do anything, can't use a computer, can't remember anything. Bullshit! I left 65 behind a while back and other than the occasional back trouble, I'm pretty crepit (crepit isn't a word, but it might be added to the dictionary if we start using it regularly). I can't afford a yard service, so I mow my own yard. I have two big ole dogs who depend on me. 

AND I have forms to fill out!

Princess told the truth when she wrote about our official adoption of her "gest," whose name is, indeed, Alice. We'll be providing more information about Alice soon. She has her first appointment with Dr. G. coming up. Alice will need doggy chill pills because she is terrified of people. She is the most frightened dog I have ever cared for. 

I might need chill pills to get through her appointment, too. Maybe I should share with Dr. G.

Talk to ya soon.

Oh! Wait a minute! I almost forgot to say there's no such thing as a fucking Lake America. IT'S LAKE ONTARIO. That moron in D.C. does this stupid shit because it distracts people from the serious shit he's doing, like getting members of our armed forced injured and even killed for no damn reason. STOP MESSING WITH OUR BEAUTIFUL FRIENDS IN CANADA.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MEME MONDAY

 

THE WIZARD OF WAS

 

HERE A MITCH THERE A MITCH EVERYWHERE A MITCH MITCH

 Dear Governor Andy Beshear of Kentucky.

I know you're frustrated with the Mitch McConnell situation. You haven't seen the senior senator from your state since the middle of June, but you have to learn to ignore all those silly rumors about his health. Yes, he's fallen once or twice but only because some damned democrat tripped him. At the moment he's recovering from eating a tainted  jalapeño popper. And it's summer. Why shouldn't he take time off during the summer? Really, Andy, you expect too much.

Stop demanding proof that your esteemed senator is all right. I can tell you for a fact that he's fine. I talked to him on the phone this morning for 20 minutes –– not one minute more and not one minute less. We chatted about the times he froze in public. He explained to me that every time he froze he had finished a chocolate ice cream cone less than five minutes before. Now he knows he shouldn't have ice cream until he gets home at night and Elaine feeds it to him. 

What's that, Andy? So many people say they've talked to the Great & Powerful One on the phone but you won't believe he's okay unless you talk to him yourself? Well, I can do better than that. Let me sign off and I'll send you photos of our beloved Senator McConnell. Pictures should convince you he's fine and dandy.

Lots of love to you and the whole state of Kentucky, Andy, from your old pal,

Janie Junebug

And here's my favorite photo of our greatest senator:

I was sure Miss Lindsey was keeping an eye
on Senator McConnell from heaven and
now I know it for a fact!

ROYAL CHINWAG: DON'T WORRY IT'S OKAY

 Hi! It's me, Princess. Things have been kinda rough here. 

Sunday night we settled in and Mommy told us good night the way she always says good night but then all of a sudden she jumped up and ran to the bathroom and it was not good. All sorts of stuff exploded out of her. Even tho we liked the way it smelled us gurls wuz scared. 

Then I remembered what best frend Penny taught me. 

I had to be in charge.

I AM THEE PRINCESS, PROTECTOR AND COMANDOR.

LOOK AT MY BIG TOOFERS, THE BETTER TO EAT YOU WITH IF YOU ARE BAD. MY TEEFS PROOVE HOW IMPORTANT I AM.

When I became my true self I knew I had to take care of Mommy. She was moaning and groaning cuz her tummy hurted so I had her pet my head and scratch my back. That distracted her. After a while, she flopped down on the bathroom floor kinda like a dead fish.  I stayed close to Mommy the whole night long. I kept her warm with snuggles and didn't leave her for a single minute. 

I was real glad when it was morning and Mommy crawled out of the bathroom to go to sleep on the couch.

I took a nap too.

Mommy isn't exploding in the bathroom now but she's still pretty tired so she said I could use the lappytop to write to you. She also said I could tell you the gest is still here but I'm not supposed to tell ya we went ahead and adopated her and Mommy named her Alice. Mommy wants to tell you all that herself.

uh-oh

I guess it will be a pretty long time before yours truly gets to use the lappytop again. 

Bye bye for a long, long time.

Before I go, here's my friend and sister, Alice.

THE NEWS FROM OUR HOUSE

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Miss Lindsey Lou Graham has left behind toil and trouble by shuffling off this mortal coil with a step ball change into a flap and a flip flop.

Any hint of decency that was in Graham died with John McCain, and Sir Farts Alot took over his life. 

That tweet pretty much sums it up. After trashing the felonious felon, Graham fell in love with 🟧.

As Lindsey left us, a turtle came back from the dead. Suddenly a photo was released of Mitch with his wife along with a statement, supposedly from Mitch, saying he had fallen, was unconscious briefly, and had a mild case of pneumonia. He's now in rehab to regain his strength.

We had to wait four weeks for that little bit of information?

Do you think Mitch is brain dead but on life support so no one else can serve the remainder of his term in the senate? It doesn't look as if Mitch is returning to the Hill.

Princess and I visited Dr. G for her annual wellness exam. She was out of my sight only to have her blood drawn, but I could hear the techs talking about her and saying she's a gorgeous dog. I agree.

I had patriotic nails for our country's semiquincentennial, but I didn't feel at all excited about the birthday. 

The bicentennial was totally dissimilar.  

Nixon was gone. Ford, who hadn't been elected president, was in charge, but the bicentennial wasn't connected with a political party. 

Nothing was called The Ford This or The Ford That. The bicentennial was about our country. 

The best part of June was the arrival of Favorite Young Man and K. They were here for a few days because they insisted on doing some work for me.

You might recall that the back of my house and the deck have been falling apart for quite some time, and I couldn't get anyone to make repairs. FYM and K said the deck was dangerous and it had to be demolished. So they made the deck go away.

They did a lot of other work, too.

FYM also found a great guy named Joe who did some more work for me.

First, Joe repaired the back of the house.

The concrete steps are Penelope's steps to France. She would be appalled if she knew the steps lead to the house.

If it ever cools off, I have a lot of work to do where the deck used to be. I'll rake,  dig, clean, and plant, but it's already a huge improvement.

A few days after Joe finished this job, he built a new gate for me.

I love it!

The old gate had been in bad shape since we had a couple of hurricanes almost two years ago. After the wind stopped blowing, the old gate continued to deteriorate until it reached the point of almost no exit or entry. 

Opening or closing it was very difficult. It didn't latch well, so hunks of concrete and garbage cans helped serve as barriers to keep doggies in the yard.

I'll ask Joe to take care of more house problems in the future.

What's new at your house? I hope none of you have gotten sick with that nasty fruit-associated diarrhea. My wish is for all of you to be safe, happy, and healthy.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FRANKLIN FRIDAY FLASHBACK

Franklin wrote this post in 2015. I like to think of him snicker snorting over us reading it in 2026.

HI! Hi Hi Hi Hi Hi HIIHIHIHIHIIHIHIHIHIHIIHIIHIHIHIHIHIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!

Hi, Every Buddy! It's me, Franklin the Bordernese, and I'm sure to please. I've had a problem come up with Mom. I need you all to help me out.

The first thing that happened is really cool. Willy Dunne Wooters taught me how to drive his red 'stang. I dunno what 'stang means, but I learned how to drive his car.

It's a little bit hard to see me in this first picture, but I'm at the round thingy I turn to make the car turn. It's not so hard to do.

Don't tell, but sometimes when I see a cat in the street I go a little faster. I would never hurt a cat, but sometimes I thinks about it.

Here's a picture where you can see me better in the car:

I'm pretty dang good lookin', isn't I?

But now I have to tell you about the problem. I was sitting in the car, figuring out all the knobs and dials, and I looked up and Mom had come outside. I thought she was there to admire my driving skills. I smiled at her, but she didn't come over to the car to hug and kiss me.

She walked right up to Willy Dunne Wooters and put her arms around him and started kissin' on him. She kissed his cheek and his neck and she even kissed his mouth, which was enough to make me think I might throw up my kibble.

AND Willy Dunne Wooters seemed to like it that Mom was kissin' on him. He didn't look like he was gonna throw up his kibble.

I think I have a romance on my paws.

Here's the big question: Should I have Mom fixed, or should I have Willy Dunne Wooters fixed, or should I have both of them fixed? I understand you might not wanna think about this very personal and intimate stuff, but I needs your help.

Okay I love you bye bye.

Franklin the Bordernese