What a weekend! Highs and extreme lows - well, one extreme low: there was a death in my family which I’m too sad to write about, so let’s leave it at that.

Saturday morning I had to take Sprocket Rocket Hero Pup to the V-E-T for his annual torturing, er, I mean exam and shots. Despite a flea bath, he had a lot of fleas as a consequence of staying on the farm for two weeks, so he had a hot dip, an emergency pill and a few other assorted treatments, all of which he enjoyed about as much as I would enjoy sitting through a chick flick marathon fraught with fusion jazz numbers as warty gnomes stuck hot pins in the soles of my feet. At the V-E-T, something funny happened which involves poo. [Side note: I never realized until I started blogging just how much poo and poo-related hilarity there is in my life. I’m sure that means something significant, but I’d rather not follow that logic train to the station, if you take my meaning.]

Anyway, can I just gloat for a moment about what a smart doggyboy I have? Part of the annual canine exam involves sticking a plastic speculum up his nether regions to obtain a fecal sample to test for worms. Well, the V-E-T came around in view of Sprocket as he slathered the speculum with lube. Sprocket got this look on his face like "Oh, hell! I know what that's for! HELL NO!" He wiggled free and without crouching or straining or anything, unceremoniously dropped a poo nugget right on the exam table. It sounds gross because it involves feces, but really, it was very funny - he knew exactly what was coming and took immediate measures to bypass it. I know he was saying, "Fecal sample?!? I GOT yo’ fecal sample, beeyatch!" I love my dog. And the V-E-T did actually test the poo nugget instead of manually gathering another sample, so Sprocket was vindicated. I love my V-E-T, too.

Sunday I headed for Athens and lunch with Nancy. We ate at East-West Bistro: Chardonnay, bruschetta, and spinach tortellini in tomato-cream sauce with chicken (we both had the same). Nancy had dessert but they were out of the white chocolate cheesecake I wanted, so I was forced - MUCH against my will, I assure you - to drink a Godiva martini, which is Absolut vodka, Godiva liqueur and vanilla ice cream. Megalicious! Next we visited her cousin Bob at the assisted living facility; Bob plays a lot of RPGs on his computer so we had a lot to talk about. Since Nancy had to meet with her realtor (or her bank - something new-house-related, anyway) I called my brother who lives about 2 miles from her. I was driving toward downtown Athens as he and I talked, trying to fix a place to meet. He wanted to know where I was but I wasn’t sure what street I was on - I know where to turn and what to do, but not necessarily the street names so I tried for humour: "I’m on that street, you know, where you turn off that other street, and you go down by that place, you know, before you turn on that street, you know, by the stuff..." - when Bo exclaimed, "Yeah, I know EXACTLY where you are! [pause] You’re two cars in front of me!" Heh, it was funny at the time. So Bo, Sarah and I went back to East-West for more bruschetta, some black bean cakes, some beers and good conversation. As we were about to leave, Bo’s friend Dan and his new wife came in for dinner so I got to meet them, plus Dan’s new stepdaughter (a very pretty and polite nine-year-old).

So the weekend was mostly fun and enjoyable, except for the atrocious way it started.

MONTOYA DELENDA EST!