Well, we took the dog (now named Wally) to the vet yesterday. He's healthy, and not a puppy like we thought he was. The vet said he's a (most likely) full blooded beagle and is anywhere from 3 to 8 years old, but he's probably close to 3. He is missing a few patches of fur around his tail, but that's because of a flea allergy. We are getting the fleas under control, and the fur will grow back.

Right now the cats and the dog are all occupying the same couch without incident. The catfits are declining in frequency. Peace is returning to the household and I cross my fingers and hope it will last.

Mark and I are both feeling pretty icky today, so nothing terribly exciting has happened.

I will be embarking on a job hunt soon. It's very difficult to find a job here because it's a college town, as well as my physical limitations. I cannot handle a McJob or a waitressing job because of a bad ankle (I was in a car wreck a little over a year ago and I have a plate and seven screws in my ankle.) I can't handle long shifts on my feet, so this rules out cashiering, waitressing, etc. This does not bode well.

Bruja