Sometimes Love Hurts

This is Jake.

He is mine until tomorrow. Then he will go to live with a lovely lady named Cynthia and her husband Jack. They have a really pretty house on a hill in San Francisco.

I have known and been friends with Cynthia since we were 7 years old. As long as I've known Cynthia, she has always had cats. Several years ago, when her last cat passed away, she decided "no more cats".

We brought Jake home Christmas Eve. Harry and Zoe got very upset having him here. I had to put Jake in a crate most of the time to protect him because he is really tiny. My trainer Todd recommended that I take him somewhere "else" for a few days. Since we were going to Cynthia's for dinner on Christmas Day, I asked her if she would babysit Jake until we picked him up on Tuesday evening. (We were having him neutered early Wednesday morning.)

When we picked Jake up on Tuesday evening, he was already Cynthia and Jack's dog. I just couldn't keep Jake here with two snarling big dogs trying to kill him every chance they got. Jake was so happy at his new house that Alex and I decided to give the pup to Cynthia and Jack.

They are thrilled with the new addition to their family. I'll miss him, but I'm so glad he will have a wonderful home as an only child with people who adore him.

He's such a good boy. And he smells like peaches.

A Christmas Letter

This is where I'm going to brag about how good everything is in my life, in my kids' lives, and in my world.

Uh, no it's not.

I'm sitting there on Christmas eve about midnight in my new cashmere robe. I love cashmere robes, but I wonder if my husband buys them for me because he's trying to kill me.

See, he knows that they are so comfortable to me that I might never go out of the house again. The robe takes away any desire I've ever had to dress. Why dress when you can sit there in a cashmere robe all day?

If I never leave the house, I won't get any exercise at all. None. I will probably get very fat and my arteries will swell or whatever. I will get very sluggish and my skin will get pasty. Even my dogs will get sluggish and pasty from staying inside with me all the time.

My husband may think he's being clever, but I'm on to him.

Merry Christmas to all of you!