Tomorrow Zeke and I have to take all three of the dogs to the vet. Two people, three canines...going to the vet. Doesn't sound like a recipe for goodness. Otto may already have an idea based on the fact that he's half human and probably peeked at the calendar hanging on my fridge. Timmy is clueless and won't realize what's going on until Dr. Jane sticks a needle the size of his leg into his back. And Simon? Let's just say that Sy won't go down without a fight (and a tiny little muzzle - get out the hair scrunchie).
On a brighter note: this evening I was finally able to pick my first lemon off of my Mother's Day Lemon Tree. I've been waiting for about 150 days (literally) to pick this lemon and I've never tasted something so sour but so sweet. That tree was given to me out of love, I've nurtured it and babied it since I saw it, and to see it so happy and so healthy makes me smile. It's tiny little things like a homegrown lemon that count people...really, they do.
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