the Dalaverse

Ralphie arrived just as Shorty left yesterday, which was good, because Shorty tried to attack him. He's really a nasty little dog, that one -- cute as a bug, but mean. I wasn't sorry to see him go. Our new boy is much easier to get along with. He came with a big cardboard box full of toys, kibble, canned food, six different kinds of treats, two collars and a leash. We spent most of the day with him to help ease him in; he seems to be adjusting pretty well. He hasn't had an accident in the house, he doesn't chase the cat and he only chewed one of my leather belts a little.

Um. I think this is my dog, y'all. I don't know if it's because I was the one to lead him around and play with him at first, or because I remind him of his foster mother, or what, but he won't let me out of his sight. From room to room and up and down the stairs. He sits outside the door when I'm taking a shower, like he thinks the bathroom is the wardrobe into Narnia. He slept on the floor in my room last night, instead of on his nice dog bed in the hall or the master bedroom. This also means I was the one woken up by a wet nose on my hand at 4:00 this morning to let him out, and then again at 6 because he wouldn't go downstairs with my mother and eat his breakfast unless I came too.

I love him already. But I don't know how to explain to him that I only live here three months a year.

The power went out last night while we were watching "Alexander," so I still have almost an hour to go. It's...not good, for a myriad of reasons. Will type up thoughts when finished.

Haven't written in forever. Very, very bad of me.

God, I'm so freaking tired. I am so tempted to call out, but my mother would kill me.