Buckin' Bronko

When Bronko jumped on my face at 6:15 this morning (a Saturday), I tried to tease him back to sleep by rubbing the belly (his, not mine). It didn't work, so I found myself up on the neighbor's hill coaxing him to please pee. Keep in mind, Andy usually lets me snooze into the double-digits on the weekends.

I didn't bother putting my glasses on, so everything was a little hazy. From the smell alone, I could tell that Spring is really here. I refuse to believe it might snow again. I want the ground to dry up. Bronko and I are tired of needing to be hosed down everytime we go outside (I'm using the plural form here in an act of solidarity only. I've never actually been hosed down.)

Bronko had a $280 visit to the vet yesterday: Eye infection, infected paw because the little bastard won't stop licking a tiny stick wound from last week, heartworm test, blood workup to make sure he's getting everything he needs from Daddy's homemade meals, Heartgard pills, Frontline tick juice, prescription antibiotics (for the eye), prescription cream (for the paw). I should have taken Andy up on his offer to have a few more kids. It would have been cheaper.