Like it or not, a trip to town was mandatory yesterday. Getting in and out of the truck was as imagined and our rutted road just added to the fun. The first stop was at a little shop where I know the proprietress, an older woman, well. She stood with a grimace and said she'd just pulled a muscle in her back. Before I could commiserate, an elderly gentleman with a cane came in and immediately began telling his own tale of woe. I thought, "Good grief, this is a meeting of the walking zombies from Night of the Living Dead!" Not wishing to participate in this misery fest, I quickly concluded my business and backed away, having said little more than hello. (I don't think my absence was noted as they were involved in one-upping each other's pain.) This was a smack upside my head and I would like to take back every whine and whimper uttered. I don't want to be one of "them."
Bessie Anne came here after Frank and Pearl were in residence. She is discovering the perks of being an only child. Plenty of room on the lap, no competition for treats, no shared attention; I don't want her to get to used to this. I left my number at the vet's office and also checked the bulletin board at the feed store. Bess needs some buddies!