So I have a raincheck for brunch at Sage with the first. (Everyone gets mopey from time to time.) I wish the second one would behave like he did more of the time. Things are quiet now so Sammy must be downstairs (or chewing on stuff from the bathroom waste basket, or passed out in the hallway, or hiding under a bed, or... you get the picture).
Last Thursday I brought some pizza home from work. I had it between two little paper plates, set it in the middle of the dining room table and then let Sammy out of his crate for his walk. Later, before my husband was home, I kept hearing Sammy jump up. If you've read about any of Sammy's adventures you know what he was doing. After hubby came home Sammy came upstairs and was so happy to see me. I kept smelling his breath but found no evidence. When I saw the plates still on the dining room table I nearly fell over from shock. How many people smell their dog's breath to see if they've been eating stuff that isn't for them? Yeah, I know I'm strange.
Today I was approached to do be a blog tour stop for a blog tour company. On the other side of the coin I received a rejection on a short story submitted last month. I only have one story out right now so I gotta send some more stuff out.
I can't believe it's almost October.