It’s like having the canine version of Gregory House, M.D. living with you.

My boyfriend is okay. Those of you who read my last entry will remember that I was a little concerned for his well-being, since Tierce chewed through his dialysis tube. Lovely morning, that.

This is typical for a puppy and, since neither of us caught him in the act, we can’t give him the correction/beating/near-death-experience that our first inclinations were upon discovering the mangled plastic. He will, however, be confined to the crate upon our retiring to bed.

More on this later…

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