Oh for the love of Pete...

For the last 15 minutes, my dumbass neighbors have been shooting off fireworks. I currently have a vibrating corgi practically attached at the ankle, because he's freaking terrified of loud noises. Ironic, really, since Zippy the vibrating corgi is the master of the armor-piercing bullet bark, able to rupture an eardrum at 10 paces.

Do you know how difficult it is to pee when you have a corgi twined between your calves? Imagine having a pair of imploring brown eyes staring up at you from between your knees while you try to tinkle. It's not easy, I'll tell you!

Nor is typing on a laptop when you have a 35 pound corgi trying to occupy the aforementioned lap. Trying to dislodge him while not deleting all your work is similarly challenging.

Slider, being the elder statesman, is nonchalantly flopped at the top of the steps, disdainfully regarding the little red dog. Slider doesn't particularly like loud noises either, but at 12 years old, he's learned that they probably won't affect him. He raises an eyebrow now and then, but his days are more productively occupied by snoozing, napping, and taking the odd siesta. He's a dear old dog, and I will miss him more than most people I know when he goes.

Whew. The fireworks have stopped and Zippy has been lured downstairs with the promise of a cookie. That action captured Slider's interest, too, as few things interest him more than cookies. But now that I have an unobstructed, unmolested chance at the keyboard, I find that I have nothing to say.

Except, bye!