Rock Bottom

Although I feel like I have been pretty sympathetic about Porter's depression regarding the dog racing and how much he has been missing Kt while she has been gone (though not as much as I have), I had a long day at work yesterday and was more than a bit upset when I came home to find Porter reading a girlie mag instead of cooking dinner or cleaning up the yard like I had asked.


I know he is becoming a little teenager of a Lab, but I just hate to think that the tiny pup we picked up in January is maturing so quickly. Time, it does fly by.




Yes, it gets worse. I woke up in the middle of the night to some noises down in the kitchen. I stumbled downstairs and this is what I was confronted with. At first he tried to act all calm and claim it was the Great Dane down the block that drank the beer. He was sitting as still and as straight as he could in order to convince me that he wasn't the one drinking the Colorado Kool-Aid.

He was barely able to sit up, much less keep his "the Great Dane drank the beer" story straight when I pressed him on details.

Loyal readers, if you have any suggestions for what to do with him to get him back on track before Kt gets home, please let me know.