Normal Monday

It was cold last night and there was still some snow on the ground so I let Slinky sleep in the kitchen. He slept comfortably all night. I give him two old rag rugs and two old towels and he makes a "nest" of sorts out of those towels. At 6:00 or so, he began whining to let me know he needed to get out so I got up and let him out. Then I just stayed up. I fixed him his cinnamon toast and he seemed happy to have things back to normal. He began looking at the stove awhile ago and I knew he was wanting his bacon. I know bacon isn't good for him but he's an old dog so why not make him happy in the time he has left. I put a piece of bacon on a cup of his dog food and pour the bacon grease over it. He absolutely loves it! He is patiently waiting now for his bacon to cook.

Missy still hates him. It is so funny to see how she hisses at him if he even looks at her or comes her way. Poor dog! Back in Georgia, before the divorce, they had a cat that looked just like Missy, just a little larger because he was a male...a tom...and they were great friends and even slept together. He probably can't figure out why Missy is so hostile. But she is hostile to everyone..except me. She even hissed at Karan when she came to feed her.

Bob called last night and talked briefly, about ten minutes ..until he lost the signal. He is doing pretty well. One day last week he took his glucose reading and it was 265. I was horrified! But he said the next day it was 145 and the following day it was 123. So, who knows what's going on with his diabetes. Anyhow, he said he did get to stay in the motel after all. I knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at all in a shelter. But the man is almost 79 years old. I don't know how much longer he can do disasters....especially with diabetes.

But, whatever makes him happy. Certainly no one is going to tell me what I can or cannot do and I have told my children that whichever one of them puts me in a nursing home will be cut out of my will. I want to die in my own bed...at home...when my time comes.

Oh well, enough of that! I am 73 and in perfect health. I have plenty of energy. I don't even take any meds. So I could live to be 93 like my aunt Flossie. Who knows... But I mean it about the nursing home. To me that would be hell on earth.