Don’t you think Good Housekeeping would want me to spend the prize money they gave me to pay someone to clean my house?

One request, from Chitownmez, and, yes, I know what it’s all about. She wants to see Ursa. You all do, I’m sure. No one comes here to see what I have to say, blah, blah, writing, blah.

Just get to the dog, lady.

Ursa is currently lying at my feet, hoping that we might do something other than play on the white box today. Like Park! Or Walk! (Again—she gets one every morning and one after her dinner, too. Don’t let her fool you.) Or Play! LET’S GO THROW THAT BALL!

We’ll do one of these things, primarily because my dog is insanely spoiled.

And well documented. Here’s a little Ursa, The Early Days.

And then some recent pining we did on the front porch. “EVERYONE is having more fun than me.”

But there’s always hope. Always hope that Her People will put down the white box and do something fun. “I wish they’d take me to the Puppy Park.”