ps we cleaned the apartment like mad just last night.
At 8 this morning I was sitting like three rows back from four Brussels Griffons being judged at the Westminster Kennel Club dog show, so happy I could almost cry.
In six hours at the dog show we met Holly, a gorgeous liver-spotted Dalmatian who let us rub her belly (she is the 99th ranked Dalmation lady in the US); an Italian Greyhoud wearing a faerie necklace; a grey Affenpinscher named Jake; and Walter, a Boston Terrier who is my Valentine (he gave me kisses, after all).
I got home around 3 and Meg was crying weird, and I went into the bedroom and was like, oh, she found her old grey mouse toy, but she never had a grey mouse toy, and grey mouse toys don’t move. I ran back into the living room, and she followed me with her gift. I may or may not have run out into the hallway in my socks and, I will confess to you tumblr, called my super to help me.
I’d been up since way before sunrise and in desperate need of a nap, but how did I know there were not a million more mice in the bedroom, under a blanket on the floor, IN MY BED? So I napped on the couch.
When I was brushing my post-nap teeth I heard Meg crying strangely from the bedroom. I looked in and she was with another little mouse on the blanket on the floor. I shut the door, turned on the radio loud so I wouldn’t hear the squeaking, and Tanner got home half an hour later and is an excellent person, for handling the mouse and for not making me feel like a total pussy for not being able to handle this at all.
There don’t seem to be any gaps by our floorboards, but I’ll find places to stick steel wool anyway. And I guess I should be glad Meg doesn’t chew up her presents before presenting them.
New experiences, zoological diversity, I guess.
