[et_bloom_locked optin_id="optin_2"] content [/et_bloom_locked]

…and the doggy home from daycare. Plus, I’m home from the ophthalmologist. You know, those tests you have done when you’ve reached a certain dewiness in the Garden of Life. (Ahem.) Plus, a check on the glaucoma surgery done last year.

All is well. Nerves are perfect. Field of vision is great. Pressure is wonderful. I have to go back in six months. Pretty standard.

I only see my doctor twice a year. If I had to see her any more often I would probably go screaming into the night. I waited two hours to see the first person. Next test twenty minutes. Next test an hour. Next test forty minutes. I got out of there about four hours later and was happy to escape.

Stanley didn’t eat before he went to daycare so he didn’t get any bones. I spent the entire time at the eye doctor feeling guilty. Then, when we came home he lay on the kitchen floor eyeing me like we were combatants instead of cuddle buddies. I took his food out of the refrigerator, uncovered it, put it down again, and walked off.

A few minutes later the unmistakable slurps of a famished canine could be heard. I was very calm. I didn’t jump up and down. I merely told him, “Good boy,” and gave him his two bones.

In other words, all is well at Casa Ranney. 🙂

Tomorrow we’ll actually get some work done.

EDITED TO ADD:

Picture of Stanley and his new buddies at daycare:

https://storage.googleapis.com/gingr-app-user-uploads/2019/08/22/68362a90-c4f6-11e9-ad5a-41c038aa4737-6D496E16-BE69-4E61-AA5C-8F425CE15B17.jpeg