There is nothing like living in a small town with a bunch of, excuse me, dirtbags, to make you question your committment to living a life of help and love for all mankind. Long story, not necessary to go into it, but suffice it to say, a raving lunatic dirt bag made my life hell today.

Rose's foot is doing well. We went to the vet today to get her dressing changed, and the first thing she said to me was "WOW! Good Job!" in reference to the rebandaging that I had to do. I was pretty proud. Then it turns out that the wound is doing really well, so well that she does not need a new bandage -- though she needs one of those cones/lampshades/elizabethan collar things. Then she said to me again "that was a really great job! what is your background?" and I said "horses." But the inner vet/MD in me was glowing.

Ava and Carter had a nondescript day--all we did was go to the grocery store and the vet's then out in the boat. They both just tagged along. Quite happily though.