Dog Days

The dogs up in here are showing every day of their 14 years (that's 98 in dog years). Medea has selective incontinence. She can wake up in the wee hours and dump a load in the guest room or make a pond in the kitchen, but she can't seem to attempt to wake anybody up to let her out to see to these issues. Plus she seems to be subscribing to the "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" philosophy and is losing the hair on her back, legs, ears, and face. Makes it easier to see and capture the fleas that are part of the cause of this malady, but it sure makes her look funny. Swee'tea is going blind and deaf. And crazy as a shithouse rat. She's taken to randomly pounding on the floor with her foot as though she was scratching herself, but she isn't actually scratching herself. This happens two or three times per night. About three feet from our bed. And dear old Rosa is getting surlier and grumpier and appears as healthy as a horse, tragically.

Due to crappy weather and a lousy work schedule I've been doggin' it in the bikecycling department. That and the fact that my knee is not happy with the (relatively) cool and damp conditions. And of course the diminishing daylight, particularly in evidence of an evening. Plus having to rush off to D.C. to attend to this huge looming financial crisis. {It's all on the down low, but as CEO of a corporation deemed too small to fail, Paulson wanted my input.}

I had a cup of coffee with our cousin/nephew/second cousin Jim a week or so ago. He's been living in Virginia Beach for the last coupla years and was in Raleigh interviewing for a position at a software firm in RTP. We caught up on the last decade or so of what's been going on and decided that it was past time for a reunion of the descendants of Vincent and Marie. I've got his email if anyone is interested. It was good to see him again for the first time since Grandma's funeral. Tempis fugit, baby.

The other dog doggin' it lately is none other than our founder and chief counsel RiderXXX. Who dogged it and meta-dogged it this past week. First, she races for one hundred and forty (140) miles over pavement, dirt, gravel and sand in the dales and hills of central (?) Indiana and misses setting the new course record for women by eight (8) seconds ("). Which is lamentable, though I should hasten to add that she was the first woman finisher and she won her Category (4), while winning less cash than the the next three women finishers who were all 2's and 3's. Of course, in recreational competitive cycling, whoever has the most fun wins, and judging by her reports to me, she won twice.

But as bad as not being able to shave 8 seconds off of an 8 hour ride is, the real doggin' is in not squeezing in the time (at work) to post a first hand report to her myriad fanbase here on the intertubes. Sheesh. Probably she's been in constant communication with her boss George W and his new BFF Hank working on this latest skirmish in the war against personal responsibility and public accountability. That and having her house all tore up from the floor up by Russians or Hondurans or what-have-you. So sorry, fans, that you had to hear it from me, but Liontamers need to know when one of our own takes so many names after kicking so much ask. I been telling her since July that her skillz is off the chain and she just been like: whatever. Who's onto whom now, Bub?