Nom de Plume

Mom has NOT left the ranch.

Julian has been evacuated, but she’s staying at Rhonda’s, which I guess has been slimed, etc.

Millie is leaving.

Jesus, this is beyond terrible. The fires just keep getting bigger and converging and spreading every time you click refresh on the google maps. My mother and Millie are fine–keeping cell phone use to a minimum. At last check in, they were all packed and ready to go, horses were trailered etc. Probably to Borrego.

(harry)(foster pug)*(steve)(nightshift)=crazy pug lady

To explicate: I am fostering a pug for Seattle Pug Rescue. He’s a little, erm, bundle of energy named Obie. He and Harry get along just fine, though sometimes Harry has to put the smackdown on the rambunctious puppyness. Which secretly thrills me because most of the time, Harry just lets Obie hump him.

Also, Steve is now working the night shift. He goes to work at about 3, and comes home about 2 in the morning. He’s actually on a schedule that’s more like mine, which is weird because he’s always gone to bed at something obscenely early like 8 in the evening. But I find that I’m lonely rattling around the house at night.

Which leads me to the whole point of this post: I have become a crazy pug lady. Steve pointed out the other day that I actually CONVERSE with the dogs.

Scary.