Hella Stella

My poor dad. He was called in to look after Morty while my BH and I were at work. He figured he would pop by, feed the pup, let him pee, play a bit, and stick him back in the crate.

Predictably, I received the following panicked phone message not long after my dad's arrival to the house:

"Hello? Hello? He's, um, eating everything. I hope those notes on human anatomy aren't important, because he's... Aaaaargh! Mordichai! Stop it!"

Click.

"Hello? Are you there? He's tearing around the house like a crazy dog! And he's eating the.... Aaaargh! Morty! Nooo!"

Click.

He finally reached me.

"He has a lot of energy," he said, panting.

"Yes," I said. "He is a puppy."

"He's eating the chair I'm sitting on."

"Perhaps you could stop him?"

"How would I do that?"

"Distract him with his toys."

"Oh. Yes. That worked."

Poor dad. Poor, poor dad. I see that I am going to need to find a dog walker when we move, because Morty has too much energy to spend the day alone. He needs to trot around the neighbourhood a bit. He seems to develop a taste for human anatomy otherwise.

I guess I could file this next bit under "DID YOU KNOW???" but the answer would be "YES, DUH" because I think I am the only person who hadn't figured this out. Did you know that St. Jean Baptiste Day is tomorrow? And did you know that in Quebec, you get that day off? Because I suddenly find myself with a day off, and holy shitballs I'm happy about it. It's a good thing too, because I'm playing at the Rainbow tonight and I don't go on until 9:45. And I'm the first act of the night. I'll be wiped by the time I get home.