Dogs and Doggedness

It's been a busy day. Some writing. Some exercise.

At the the San Gabriel Humane society I walked a poodle who spends his kennel time hiding under the doggie bed. I "walked" a tiny little dog who thought she was a wallet. Yup, I'll bet she was carried in a purse. (Damn you, Paris Hilton.) I walked a dog whose tag purported that she was an Australian Cattle Dog. She looked like an Australian Cattle Dog. Except she'd fit in a purse, too. Which raises the question, do those Baby Belle cheeses come from mini-cows? If so, I know an adorable dog who could use a job. I walked a little orange poof of a dog who was excellent on the leash and full of personality. Hi there, southern Californians, if you like little dogs, The San Gabriel Humane Society has about 100 of them. Really. Small dogs became all the rage thanks to Ms. Paris, and now they are being discarded like last year's shoes. 



After the dogs, I came home and had a terse discussion about my lack of reliable Internet service with my cable provider. I rebooted, gave up on my wireless, plugged directly into my modem and found this in my email:

Attached is your copy of the final judgment paperwork, which officially finalizes your divorce.

Of course there is still the QDRO. But that is being handled by the special QDRO attorney. "Which will take months."

I'll bet my "regular" divorce attorney has sent flowers and champagne and chocolates and it should all be arriving any minute.

photo credit: yousang2me.wordpress.com