Take Your Sitcom Chic to Work Day

I really, really, really wanted to work on Sitcom Chic last night, but when I got home, the dog looked perky so we did 10 laps around the fireplace. Then I had to feed her and eat something myself and change clothes and read the paper and go to yoga. On the way home, I stopped at Pet Supplies Plus, Walgreens, and Marathon (gas is under $2 a gallon! Time to stock up!) When I did get home, I made some popcorn (this too made the dog perky) and cleaned up the kitchen and performed a bit of neighborhood association business I had been neglecting (I'm the treasurer), and updated two of my blogs, which led to a little blog reading. Suddenly, it was 9pm. Bunny Hour was reduced to Bunny Half-Hour while I knit a couple of rows on Sitcom Chic. Then it was time to do bunny chores, take the dog out one more time, surreptitiously feed the cat out of the dog's bowl, and crawl into bed with a crossword puzzle.

This morning, when I picked up my knitting bag and saw SC sitting forlornly on the coffee table, I said screw it, the cables can wait. Although technically a bit bulky to be portable, SC crawled into the bag and off to work we went. I didn't make all that much progress over lunch, but with every two rows, the stitch count drops by 8 stitches, so the more I knit, the faster it goes. Every little bit helps.

Tonight, date night is over, I'm in my jammies, so it's just me, The Amber Spyglass, and Sitcom Chic. Aahhh!

Update on Betsy: We went back to the vet on Monday, for a butt squeeze (the dog's, not mine) and consultation. Dr. M was a bit shocked (but not dismayed) that Betsy is doing better. He thinks her stiff gait is related to her ongoing back problems. A co-worker of mine whose golden retriever recently had hip surgery has had good results with fish oil, so I will start Betsy on that soon. And Who? Me? recommended Ester C, so I may add that to the arsenal. Betsy is only 6 years old and should be enjoying her life more.

BUT. The lymph nodes behind her knees are still a little swollen. I worry that she is really sick but we don't know for sure and I don't want to know for sure because I am 99% sure I would not put her through chemo anyway, so why spend the money to find out? Sometimes I'd rather just be fat, dumb, and happy.