ANOTHER YEAR OF BULLSHIT, CRAP, AND SOME GOOD STUFF

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

2023 has been plenty weird. A former president indicted multiple times––after he was found liable for sexually abusing and defaming a woman. Kevin McCarthy was in and out like the dick he is and replaced by some little johnson who believes public policy springs from the Bible.

Russia's war crimes against Uktraine continue. Israel. Gaza. What the idiot calls hummus. Why does anyone want to watch a horror movie when that's happening?

Ozzy Osbourne retired. Elton John brought his touring career to an end. Buzz Aldrin got married on his 93rd birthday. David Crosby and Tina Turner died. 

And there was Barbie, which I have watched now that it's streaming. I appreciate its message about the patriarchy and it has a lot of cute moments, but I don't understand why some people went to see it multiple times in theaters. Billion dollar movie? Congratulations, Greta Gerwig, but it was not brilliant.

On the job, I try to make the best of things. Our team's schedule changed. The way we learned about it was a fuckfest that filled me with so much anger I almost quit. The new schedule along with some other revisions to his job ended in the resignation of our beloved supervisor, Bryan. I'm hanging in there. Let's just say my job satisfaction has decreased a great deal. During February I also have to train to handle another line of business in addition to the two I already take care of. I'm not pleased. 

We remain ridiculously busy and had massive lay-offs a few months ago. After being without a supervisor for an uncomfortably long time, a company reorganization brought us a new supervisor and someone from another team joined us so we had 10 people on our team. Since then, three people have quit, one was laid off, and one person is leaving us soon to join another team. It's not even our busy season and we are slammed. 

Dog-wise, we went through the terror of Franklin's cancer, but he's done so well since his surgery. He is my beautiful, cherished best buddy. Princess made us happy by agreeing to join our family. She's a trip, full of energy and struggling to ignore the devil on her shoulder. I love seeing Princess and Penelope snuggle on the couch. Two very different dogs love each other so much. 

I feel a lot of anxiety when I think about 2024. I love the indictments. I love Jack Smith. I'm not in love with what might happen next year with the Hitler wannabe. Specifically, I'm terrified. 

How can people avoid noticing all the good President Biden has done? We have plenty of COVID vaccine; we recovered from the supply chain issues; the horrible inflation inherited from the former guy is not so bad now; unemployment is the lowest it has ever been. 

Our president continues to stand with Ukraine, and he backs Israel. Some Republicans want to bring impeachment charges against him, but they can't figure out what crime he's committed because he hasn't committed any crimes. He's a man who loves his family. I wish he were younger but he's not so tough shit. I'd take Biden as president at 110 before I'd want the most popular Republican, who confuses Biden with Obama and fusses that Obama/Biden will start World War II.

You'll never hear Joe Biden quoting Hitler and calling human beings vermin. He is a man who took on an incredible burden and handled it as the adult he is rather than a petulant toddler. With his administration, the adults are in charge.

Let's keep it that way.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

HOLIDAY HEADQUARTERS RERUN

I thought you might enjoy this post from last winter when The Mantel Gang had some good times. They haven't made an appearance on my blog for a while because they've been working so hard.

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

At last the time has come for The Mantel Gang to share what they did over the holidays. First, they moved to their holiday headquarters––a secret location known as Top Shelf of Bookcase.

 They took the time to attend some public events, however, starting with their attendance at a Thanksgiving Day Parade. 

Following the parade, they buckled down and got to work, but someone new joined them to monitor their health. It's Dr. Fauci!

He's so diligent that even in  retirement he doesn't want his friends to get sick.

Their next public event was The National Tree Lighting Ceremony.

After working very hard throughout most of December, everyone took a break just before Christmas so they could enjoy the holidays.

They gathered in a new location––Top of Armoire––where they went walking in a winter wonderland.

Then President Biden wanted to attend church. He invited them all to join him. Suddenly everyone was busy. They claimed they had plans with their families or had already accepted other invitations.

Don't tell Joe, but they actually gathered around the Christmas tree to play some drinking games, led by Justice Ginsburg and Nancy Pelosi, who raised their gavels in unison.

Hillary imbibed a little too much and started to sing, which almost broke up the party. 

Here you can see she holds out a glass of liquid refreshment for Barack, but he preferred to smoke his holidays away.

The action figures haven't decided where they'll gather next. Do they want to move back to The Mantel, where they're on display all the time, or would they prefer a more secluded spot? I can tell you they've done a lot of whispering about classified documents. Shhhhhh!

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FLEAS NAVIDAD

 

AND THE WIENER IS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

It's time for the big announcement. Which poor soul will be the next to possess the germy, buggy, stinky,  Freakin' Green Elf Shorts? Your home will be contaminated. You will be infected. Your life will never again be the same.

The winner, of course, will hold next year's Freakin' Green Elf Shorts caption contest--if they survive the blight that will come their way the moment the shorts enter their home. 

I loved all your entries. They were excellent. 

My favorite overall comment was Michael's because his entry was the first one–– "I will make America great again, even though I have a very, very, very small package."––and because he shared some great news. Michael adopted a dog named Shirley! What a happy Christmas it will be for Shirley.

Elephant's Child shared this creation: I am your perfect diet. With me in the house you won't eat too much over Christmas. Or keep it down.

That's for sure, EC. I lose my appetite every time I see his orangeness on the news.

Inexplicable DeVice didn't enter but came up with these captions: Penelope: "Nope. Not even going to look. Just walk on by, girl. Walk on by." and "Urgh. Somebody Trumped in the Freakin' Green Elf Shorts - there's no way I want them now!"

Penelope's comment made me laugh out loud. 

Mistress Maddie, a recent winner, says, "These things are harder to get rid of then trying to get the demon out of Regan MacNeil in the Exorcist."

I hope that doesn't mean my head will spin around and I'll vomit all sorts of garbage before I get the shorts out of my house.

savannah came up with this suggestion for the donald: "I've never worn these FGES but if I did I would look as handsome as the photo of me wearing these FGES." So sayeth TFG! (aka The Fat Git) 

The Fat Git, of course, is the guy who gets to report his own height and weight to the police and claims to weigh 215 lbs. on a steady diet of Mickey D's and KFC. I wonder if he's ever met a vegetable.

Debra She Who Seeks speaks the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth:"No matter how disgusting, stinky, vermin-ridden and pestilential those Freakin' Green Elf Shorts are, they are TOO GOOD for the likes of him!"

Speaking of the truth, in the years he has left to live, which I hope are few, do you think his trumpiness might at some point be introduced to the truth? This is the moment for Jack Nicholson to bray, YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH. You're right, Jack. He can't. If telling the truth is easier and simpler, he'll still tell a lie. 

Now we come to the coveted position of first runner-up. If the winner for some reason cannot fulfill their term as Miss America, the first runner-up needs to step in to take possession of the elf shorts and hold the caption contest. That person is YOU, uptonking,  who wins first runner-up with this entry: 

Donald Trump proudly presents his new line of athletic wear: The Krampus Collection, featuring the latest in fashion technology - The Grinch Pinch. Yes, Grab 'em by the Grinch! Feel it today! Available at finer retail outlets like Walmart, Shopko and Cum 'N Go.

Donald Trump Athletic Wear is a great oxymoron, and I can't resist the mention of Cum 'N Go because I have the brain and sense of humor of a six year old. 

Finally, we arrive at the announcement of the wiener.

CONGRATULATIONS, RIMPY RIMPINGTON!

Rimpy Rimpington entered more than once so I won't share all of their captions here, only the winning entry. To read all of Rimpy's clever entries, check out the comments at https://dumpedfirstwife.blogspot.com/2023/12/its-time-for-freakin-green-elf-shorts.html#comment-form.

Here's the winner that's good for one pair of FREAKIN' GREEN ELF SHORTS and all the mayhem and misery that comes with them:

The shelves where he kept our nation's secrets are bare;

For that Grinchly Jack Smith had just been there.

I love seeing the name of superhero Jack Smith, and I'm passionate about calling attention to the former guy's penchant for giving away classified information. The man cannot keep his mouth shut!

Rimpy, you'll need to email me at dumpedfirstwife@gmail.com to let me know your name (I suspect it might not be Rimpy) and address. I won't be shipping the shorts until my holiday celebrations have come to an end and I've recovered from the current craziness of my job. 

It's been fun! Thank you for your entries. You're all clever and creative.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

YES, IT'S TUESDAY

 I had a shitty day at work and spent the entire evening preparing for work tomorrow. It's a little past midnight and I have to get up early to go into the office, which is a soul sucking frozen hellscape. 

Therefore, I will not announce the Freakin' Green Elf Shorts contest winner until Wednesday or maybe Thursday. I'm shooting for Wednesday. 

I apologize.

The temperature has dropped and I was out in the very cold waters of Lake Junebug at about 11:30 p.m. trying to adjust the pump because nothing was coming out of the hose. Fucking bloody hell is all I have to say. 

It makes me happy, though, to see Princess throw herself through the water. She loves making a splash.

Send positive energy my way and maybe I won't slap anyone at work tomorrow.

Now I'll get a few hours of sleep so I can get up tomorrow and be shit on again. This is supposed to be our slow season but we're getting slammed.

HO fucking HO HO

WE'RE HAVING A BIT OF A STORM

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

It's one week until Christmas Eve. I'll be working six days this week, but I don't mind. The trees are decorated and I've baked most of my cookies. On Tuesday we have a holiday lunch at work. 

On Tuesday I will also announce the winner of The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts caption contest. We have a lot of great entries so it's a rough decision for me, but what a relief it will be to get those nasty things out of the house. I can't wait to bring in an exterminator. We also need a lot of aromatherapy and I need an appointment with my doctor and dermatologist to find out which treatments I need to recover from the horror I've experienced. 

We have happy news, too. Princess returned home yesterday. She finished her training program, although she and I will continue to have lessons with the trainer, Curtis. Curtis said she would probably be very tired at first because she needs to decompress.

She rests near me but hops up occasionally to grab a toy from the basket. For a while this morning she chased a squeaky ball around the house.

I wish we could go out for a walk, but this is happening:

Lake Junebug has achieved record depths, and the wind is blowing hard. I'll be glad when the storm moves on with those shorts. 

We had a lake of a different kind in the house last night. After the dogs went out and I watched Penelope pee, I prepared some supper for myself and sat down to eat. Penelope went to the back door to indicate she needed to go out, a trick she sometimes employs in the hopes I'll put down my food so she can run over to snatch some goody while I'm opening the door.

Forget it, Penelope, I told her. I'm not falling for it.

I ate my supper and about 20 minutes later went to the living room where I found Penelope had created Lake Superior under the Christmas tree! 

After I apologized to her for not letting her out, I heard Penelope snicker as I cleaned up the mess. Bah, humbug.

We have some new ornaments this year.

This adorable doggy was a gift from Mistress Maddie:

And I added this flag:

Some politicians want to forget Ukraine, but I won't. 

See you Tuesday for the big announcement.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

IT'S TIME FOR THE FREAKIN' GREEN ELF SHORTS CONTEST

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

With all of those indictments, the golden shine has worn off of his Florida home, so it now look like this:

He wants an upgrade for the holidays (before he settles into a jail cell, we hope), and unfortunately, he showed up at my house on Royal Avenue. He thought King Charles would be here to entertain him. 

This is his arrival:

And now it's time for the contest. You come up with your cleverest caption for the photo below. You have until Sunday to submit your entries and on Tuesday next week, I'll tell you which one of your sorry asses I've chosen as the winner. 

I will then pass The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts on to you and you will hold the next contest for the nasty things on your blog. They are so stinky and gross I can't wait to get them out of my house. It's a good thing the dogs have been treated for fleas. I haven't been, though. Ooooo! Something just crawled down my leg!

You can also enter the contest and say that you don't want to win. All captions will be treated with equal love and disgust. 

Here's the photo for which you need to create a caption:

Yes, that's Penelope standing behind him. She was so frightened she peed right after the picture was taken. The dogs do not like having him or the shorts in our Little House On The Swamp.

I await your clever responses.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FREAKIN' GREEN ELF SHORTS IN THE HOUSE!!!

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Here I am, a nice old lady who grew up in Kansas, someone who has never used a curse word and has remained a virgin so long she could be a nun, yet somehow I won last year's FREAKIN' GREEN ELF SHORTS COMPETITION, when it was held by none other than that nasty man whore Mistress Maddie (click on the link to see how Mads held the competition).

So now it's my turn to present the photo captioning competition for the shorts, but I've run into a problem. I've had the box with the shorts for months and the box is pretty on the outside, but I was too afraid to open that Pandora's box of pestilence, pain, and fleas without personal protective gear. My hazmat suit was on backorder from Ralph Lauren for months. 

But, finally, it arrived, and tomorrow, the bacteria-laden things will be out of the box and contaminating some poor soul's ass. It's your job to bring your clever captioning skills to the photo you'll see here, same bat time, same bat channel. 

Even with my hazmat suit, I'm afraid. 

Infinities of love and hatred of the germs,

Janie Junebug

LIVING WITH A PRINCESS

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I was not prepared for the antics of a German Shepherd. Princess was restless at first, but she accepted me as her mom quickly and I learned it's true that when you have a shepherd you no longer have any privacy. She follows me everywhere and watches me intently while I work. The minute I get up from my desk, she's on her feet, prepared to follow me anywhere. When I'm walking, if Princess feels she hasn't had enough attention, she'll flop down on the floor directly in front of me to request a belly rub. When she wakes up in the morning, if my alarm hasn't gone off yet, she wakes me up by sitting on me––sometimes she perches uncomfortably on my hip and sometimes she tries to crawl onto my head. 

When I take a shower, Princess stations herself outside the bathroom door to wait for me. I'm almost embarrassed to be the recipient of such devotion. She likes to watch TV with me, but she's only interested in certain shows. When she arrived, I was watching the final season of Succession on HBO, which she liked a lot. I don't know why, but when the opening music began, she hopped up on my lap. Having her on my lap isn't as much of a problem as you might think. She places the front part of her body on my legs, while her rear stretches across the couch. 

 More recently, she liked Lessons In Chemistry on AppleTV. The only part of having her on me that I don't like is her shedding, which she does A LOT. Her fur gives the Roombas a work out.

Some of the stories Penelope told about Princess in blog posts were true and some weren't. It was not true that Penelope disliked Princess. Penelope wanted Princess to play with her from the moment she first saw Princess. Penelope did the doggy "let's play" bow and pranced around, trying to lure Princess into games of chase, but Princess wasn't ready to play until she had settled into life with us after about two weeks. Then the two became best friends; antics ensued. After Penelope had her annual wellness exam with Dr. G., though, and was tired and didn't want to play, she told Princess with a little growl and shake of the head. Princess backed off immediately. 

The two of them have some sort of communication system. Penelope knows Princess will escort her past a scary Roomba. At first, Princess nudged Penelope off of the big doggy bed. After they became friends, the nudging stopped, and Princess settled herself on the little doggy bed instead, although that means she's mostly on the floor.

Penelope told the truth about Princess, however, when she said Princess is a thief. With time she learned that stealing food from the kitchen counters is frowned upon, as is stealing soap from the edge of the bathtub. Yes, she really did eat most of a bar of soap. One evening I heard a strange noise in the bedroom while I was getting ready for my shower. I found Princess with a full bag of dog treats she had stolen and opened while lounging on my bed. She looked like someone settling in to watch a movie while snacking on popcorn.

Princess is a smart girl. She knows sit and she does pretty well with stay. She's escaped from the backyard twice. I'm convinced Penelope was the mastermind behind both escapes. Penelope came right back in the house, though, while Princess refused. She wanted to go for a ride in the car. Both times I had to get the car key, let her in the car, get a leash, and lead her back in the house. Last spring when I walked her, she did pretty well on the leash, but she lost those skills over the summer when it was so hot that we couldn't go walking. I haven't been able to get her to heel, and she doesn't seem to understand the word NO. She resists down. 

Consequently, Princess is attending dog training school. She's been there for a week. She'll be home in two - three weeks, so she'll be here to celebrate her first Kissmas and receive gifts from Santa Paws. I miss her terribly (Penelope's heart is broken), but thorough training is an investment in our future together. After she comes home, I will be trained in how to handle her. For now, I get a report card with photos and videos on Fridays.

I'll be so happy when she returns to us.

Infinities, of love,

Janie Junebug

And now a very important message:

WATCH THIS SPACE FOR NEWS ABOUT THE 

FREAKIN'

              GREEN

ELF 

SHORTS!!!

 

FRANKLIN & THE GREAT CANCER SCARE

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Some of you have already read about The Great Cancer Scare from Franklin's POV, but I'd like to add to Franklin's story. 

First, I have to tell you how I feel about Franklin. I love Penelope and Princess, but Franklin is my boy. We've been together such a long time (since 2010), and he was my walking companion until he started to stumble and struggle on our strolls. My all-time favorite dog was Faulkner, The Original Dog, but Franklin is a very close second to Faulkner.

I'm not the only one who loves Franklin. He was admired all over the neighborhood. People often called out to us to say how pretty he is and how they liked his fluffy fur. He's an exceptionally amiable dog. But when we had a front door with glass panels in the top, I took delight in the way he appeared in those windows to roar at strangers. More than one Jehovah's Witness backed away in fear. 

Rebekah's husband, Eddie, is something of a dog and cat whisperer. When Eddie and Franklin met, it took about 30 seconds for them to become fast friends. I wasn't surprised when Eddie settled down on the floor with Franklin to talk to him and brush him. That's when he found the red thing that resembled a pimple. The next day it was so much bigger that I made an appointment for Franklin at the vet's office even though our beloved Dr. G. wasn't there.

The vet we saw used to be our regular vet. We had switched to Dr. G. because of a scheduling mix-up at one point and continued to ask for him. The other vet said Franklin had cancer and he wasn't going to stick a needle in it to find out if it was malignant because it was so inflamed. He gave me an antibiotic for Franklin and some drops to put on the red thing. Then he opened the door and gestured for us to leave. And that was it. No further instructions. No here's when you should come back or this is what you should do next. I was in shock and didn't make a fuss.

So we went home and I cried while I worked and cried while I didn't work. I couldn't wait for Dr. G to get back. I have to tell you, also, that Maureen stayed with Princess and Penelope while Franklin and I were at the vet's office because Princess had been with us only a few days. The first time I left the house to go to Costco, Maureen said Princess cried. But when I took Frank to the vet, it was Penelope who cried and was inconsolable. 

Of course, Dr. G. removed the cancer, it was benign, and Franklin has been fine. He's been far more lively since that ugly red thing was removed, so something must have been brewing in his body for a while. I have to tell you about what happened after Dr. G. took Franklin's stitches out.

Dr. G. was done and it was time for us to leave. The vet tech opened the door to escort us to the front desk (the bills for the surgery were pretty substantial but we managed it). Dr. G. was on the other side of the room entering his notes in the computer. I stood up to leave. Usually Franklin goes straight out the door because he can't wait to leave. He hates vet visits.

But this one time, instead of leaving, he went to Dr. G. to stand next to him. Dr. G. stopped what he was doing to pet Franklin, who was looking up at him with Franklin-style love and devotion. I think he's saying thank you, I told Dr. G.

Dr. G. said, I think so, too.

We left a beaming Dr. G. when Franklin was finished showing his appreciation. 

I check Franklin's skin frequently for any new bumps or lumps, especially his back leg where the cancer was. When I took Franklin to see Dr. G. in October for his annual wellness exam, I told him every day with Franklin is a bonus. I don't know how much longer he'll be with us, but I love and appreciate every minute with him. to be continued with more about Princess

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug 

THE ARRIVAL OF A PRINCESS

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Princess was very well behaved while traveling in the car, but when we arrived at the Little House On The Swamp, she was confused and distressed. She had no way of knowing why she was in yet another new place when she had become comfortable at the shelter.

Franklin and Penelope wagged their tails and welcomed her, but she had no interest in them. After meeting them in the back yard, she checked out the house and paced from one room to another for about three hours. This is the first photo I took of her when she finally stood still for a few minutes:

A few minutes later, Princess decided it was okay to lie down in the dining room. She must have been exhuasted, but after a few minutes of rest, she was up and moving again and she decided to check out some of the details of her new home. She discovered a bowl on the dining room table that held dog treats and stood up to help herself. 

No more keeping dog treats in the glass bowl on the table.

She also decided to help herself to anything she could find on the counters in the kitchen, including the medication I had out for myself for the following morning. If Princess had been feeling depressed or had allergies, perhaps she felt better after stealing my meds.

I hadn't had such a tall dog in the house for a long time. I had to train Princess not to stand up to take things from tables and counters, and I had to train myself to remove tempting items. Later in the evening when we settled down to sleep, she was fine and slept next to me. 

When I had to work the following morning, I told Princess we couldn't have any nonsense. She had to behave herself and be quiet––and she did and she was. She curled up on the couch and watched me so intently that I suspected she hoped to apply for my job.

And so those first few days went by. Penelope kept begging Princess to play; Princess ignored her.

On Saturday, Rebekah and her husband, Eddie, came over because they had graciously agreed to use their rototiller in part of my yard that was so overwhelmed by weeds that I couldn't remove them on my own. After Eddie did the work and he came inside, he asked for Franklin's brush. That was when he found the ugly, red pimple on Franklin's back leg that led to The Great Cancer Scare. to be continued

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

PENELOPE SPEAKS: PARDON ME FOR INTERRUPTING

 Hello. It is I, Penelope. I know Mom Mom has been telling you stories about adopting my big little sister, Princess, but I must ask you a question.

Sometimes Mom Mom sprinkles some grass seed in the backyard and sometimes I might accidentally lick some of the grass seed. Mom Mom said, Penelope, stop eating grass seed.

I don't eat grass seed, I told her.

Look in a mirror, she said. You have grass seed on your lower lip.

A little while later I accidentally got more grass seed on my lips and she said, Penelope, if you keep eating grass seed, you are going to turn into a chia pet.

Is this true? Could I turn into a chia pet? Sometimes Mom Mom makes up stuff, but sometimes she is right. 

If I turned into a chia pet, would I still look like myself, or would I look like the Bob Ross chia pet? Or maybe I would grow some different grass and look like the Willie Nelson chia pet?

I really don't want to be Willie Nelson or Bob Ross. I want to be I, Penelope. I hope I don't turn into a chia pet, but if I do, then I will be the cutest chia pet ever!

That is all. Goodbye.

THE ADOPTION OF ROYALTY

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

 I applied to adopt Princess. I usually adopt dogs who might be considered unadoptable because of their health or fear issues. I also have the requisite fenced-in backyard with a six-foot (and some) fence. Since I work from home, I would be able to give Princess loads of love and attention. She would also have built-in dog friends. I knew Franklin and Penelope would welcome her with open paws. Princess, at two years old, would help to keep the older dogs active.

I received a swift approval to my application along with an invitation to visit the shelter. This shelter wasn't just any shelter, though, that would easily allow me to pick up a dog and go home. I would have to spend time answering questions and getting to know Princess. Would she fear me? Would the person who runs the shelter think I was acceptable? 

I asked Carol to join me.She is Grandma to my dogs and would tell anyone who would listen that my dogs are well cared for.

We arrived in Green Cove Springs early on an April afternoon. The shelter could take seven shepherds at a time. Princess was from Tennessee. Her mistress had moved to Florida, been diagnosed with a cancer that was to claim her life, but had somehow found the shelter's benefactress, who drove Princess to the shelter. 

The woman who ran the shelter, "Ann," brought out Princess to meet me. 

She was beautiful. No, she was gorgeous. She was amazing. She looked at me with eyes that were not quite brown. They were more of a warm amber and the fur on her head and neck was red, with fawn and some darker colors on her lower body.

We spent some time outside with Princess, while Ann asked me questions. What did I feed my dogs? When did I feed them? Why did I want a German Shepherd? It was hard to tell from the photos I'd emailed how large my yard was and Shepherds would become destructive if they didn't get enough exercise. Was my yard really big enough? How would I exercise Princess? How would I? When would I? What would I? 

I could tell Ann didn't like my responses. She frowned a lot and at times, she told me I was wrong and told me what I needed to do instead, yet we moved inside to go over more details. Princess allowed me to pet her. Her fur was made of velvet. Ann didn't like the way I reached out to Princess and corrected me. Was she going to let me adopt this dog I had already fallen in love with?

Finally, I asked, So, can I take Princess home with me? Ann said Princess had already made the decision. Yes, she had, by settling on my feet and staring at me with absolute devotion. I signed a contract stating I would not give Princess to someone else, and if for some reason I couldn't keep her, I would return her to the shelter, and I paid a fee, along with making a donation because I didn't want Ann to change her mind.

Ann cried. She cried when she talked about Princess leaving with me. She cried before Princess left with me. She cried when we left. And she cried in between all the other crying. Ann was devoted to the dogs. 

Princess hopped right in the back seat of my car, happy to go for a ride. I told Carol, For a while there, I didn't think she was going to let me have Princess. Carol agreed. I didn't think so either. 

We were relieved to drive away with our girl and head for home.   to be continued

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug 

  

HOW MA BARKER'S GANG GREW

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I had been thinking about adding a third dog to our family for quite a while, and started to work toward making it a reality after Christmas 2022. I knew it would be a little easier on Penelope and me if we already had another dog in the house when Franklin leaves us. I dread his death. He is an old man at 15 or thereabouts. He has some difficulty getting around, and last year––for the first time since 1998––I had to go for walks by myself. Franklin couldn't manage it anymore, and Penelope is lousy on a leash. I needed a walking buddy.

So I went on Petfinder, the online adoption website, where I spotted Penelope back in 2015. 

This is the photo of a smiling Penelope that beguiled
me into adopting her at a rescue in Georgia.

This time, though, I hoped to find a dog who was fully or partially of a breed that was naturally intelligent and easy to train. I looked for a Collie and couldn't find a single one available for adoption. I know German Shepherds are intelligent and can be quite beautiful so I decided to search for them and discovered some were available not too far from our Little House On The Swamp.

I was especially interested in one shepherd, but when I called about him the contact person wouldn't help me find a time to visit the dog when I didn't have to work. Then I saw the story of Princess along with pictures of her and a video of her running and playing.

Princess was described as extremely shy and traumatized. She would need a home with a pet parent who would be patient with her. She had been with a person who kept her chained outside. Then the person became ill and couldn't keep Princess anymore. Fortunately, she ended up in a shelter especially for German Shepherds in Green Cove Springs, Florida. She was definitely a pretty girl. And German Shepherds are protective. 

 I was sure I could give Princess a happy, secure home, and in return, she'd be a good dog for me.   to be continued

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

PART IV: THEY DO IT TO THEMSELVES

 

Trump himself said he could shoot someone and get away with it. I'm sick of him getting away with things. Yes, he's under indictment. How is it that this criminal can still run for president?

Will he ever pay the price that other people pay?