Yeah, this is why it's been such a saga with care for the dog this summer. Last time we did a camp like this, we bought a kennel and housed him on the campus. But this year (different camp) we weren't allowed to do that, because we were staying in someone's basement while the missionary cabin was being rebuilt.

And then we got here and the kennel prices had nearly doubled. And we never were able to track down the person who had offered free kennel services. So we've been balancing me being at my folks' place with the dog, and then he was kenneled last week, but I'll be with him again the next two weeks. We'll have to see how it closes out.

But we did have, in fact, petsitting offers. But both of them were from the guys that, while in Arizona, lost the dog multiple times. Out there, while not good, it was a recoverable mistake. But here, in a big unfamiliar city? No chance.

So I know people are feeling like we're being too something about this, but I don't care. We'll be overprotective, but we'll have good care for him. We won't put him in those crap kennels. We will check out any potential care. And if we can't find satisfactory care, I'll stay with him. It sucks, but that's how it is.

My mom has a nice fenced yard for him and would really like to care for him, but she would fuss about him the whole time. And she doesn't have the capacity to deal with it if he bolts. For example, we had him shut in the garage while the lawnmower guy was working. He left, and mom let him out into the yard, but without checking, and he'd left the gate open. Fortunately the dog was all lolling around in the garage and never noticed, but if he'd gone out, he would have taken off for sure.

Good grief, Consuela, I would have lost my shit with that kid. And his parents.

He was a kid with a lot of issues. Given what's happened with the family since, it's clear there was a lot of shit going on in that family that we never knew about.

The oldest kid got into medical school and changed his name to something entirely different--first and last--because he no longer wanted to share his parents' name. The oldest daughter has never been stable, and the youngest kid was an alcoholic at 15. So.

And these were kids we were friends with, but we never knew what went on inside.

I'm sorry CJ's first search and rescue ended that way.

And Zen I'm glad you got in the house to feed the kitties.

Mom got her last cat because the neighbor who had him was constantly leaving and asking Mom to cat sit. Mom loved Vien anyway but she'd say she'd be gone for a week and then be gone two. Or would just leave a note and catfood at Mom's door.

Finally Mom took over ownership after she was gone for nearly a month. He was an indoor-outdoor cat. mostly outdoors and feed a lot of table scraps. He was a pure bred Ragdoll cat that the orginal owner (not the neighbor) paid like $500 for then got tired of him and gave him to the neighbor. When Mom got him he had bald patches and was throwing up because the tartar build up on his teeth was so bad.

But he lived a long healthy and well loved life.

I saw part of the US women's soccer match when I met Will for lunch. I heard one announcer say almost all the Columbia players were 20 and under and holding the US to 3 goals was really impressive.

Will and I had a nice day we went to this used furniture and other stuff store in Burlington that had used vinyl as well as used books and other stuff. I picked up a Jello recipe booklet.

Then next door is a used vinyl and used bookstore. Which was cool, then we walked along the waterfront. Which was nice, but I got really hot, I should have had more water. But afterwards I had a creemee (that's Vermont for soft serve ice cream).

I had a black cat named Noodle. She was named that because when we got her, she was an abandoned, undernourished kitten (we found her at our meetinghouse- trapped between the double doors, actually.) She was so stressed and in need of food, all she did the first month was eat and sleep in that boneless kitten fashion, so she resembled a limp little noodle. Once she got back up to weight, she got her mischievouses on.

Dinner, though late, went well. Very well. I do approve of this boy, he's really respectful, but got very comfortable with me quickly. And he hugged me when they left (just now.) Turns out he's 19, not 18, but just graduated this year (he was quick to tell me "Because I flunked a grade. But a long time ago! It was second! I'm going to college next year!"

I have a good catcare network. I trust 'em implicitly.

Yes, having reliable petsitters is a huge relief.

I'm sorry CJ's first search and rescue ended that way.

It was a sad ending but I am very proud of CJ. And I am sure he helped bring closure and comfort to the family.

I am very glad I have the people at kitty jail. But I really wish I had in-home sitters for Puppycat or for one night with Kittenish. It's not paying for the care, it's the loading them in carriers and hauling.

For all that I was worrying about having enough food to feed the boyfriend, I have to say that skinniminnie Taylor held her own. I think he only ate one more slider than she did (I got those challah mini-rolls and several varieties of pulled meat to feed 'em.) And beans and coleslaw and chips and cheese and crackers.

Still have leftovers, but I don't worry that anyone left hungry. Well, T DID take the rest of the bag of potato chips with her, but....

The metabolism of youth: I ate ONE. They polished off 11 between them.

Noodle! She sounds like a sweetheart, Suzi. And CJ should be really proud of himself.

The metabolism of youth: I ate ONE. They polished off 11 between them.

Having a 19-year-old and a 14-year-old boy in the house means I have to hide certain things or I would never get a chance to eat them. Eating MACHINES.

So we had a boil order in my county yesterday....which I knew nothing about until I drank, oh, nearly a gallon of water.

I threw up a lot yesterday, and while the digestive rumblings have calmed, my stomach still HURTS and I am naused.

Happy freakin' 4th.

Oh, and we got a mysterious short phone call that M will be visiting us earlier than the 14th. Since he was supposed to stay with his stepdad's folk's for a week in St. Louis, and we found out his stepgrandmother there has terminal cancer, I'm betting it has something to do with that. Sad.

They just got back from dead signalville, and walked in the door, so I'll know more tomorrow, and of course, it's fine that M come early. Crossing fingers that arrangements can be made with a minimum of angst and drama.