My Italian brother, Martino Fumagalli (His last name translates into “smoking chicken” of all things.) is in town, along with my Seattle colleague George Kleckner. They are here representing the Union Binding Company and we’re pleased to announce, with little-to-no trepidation, that things are progressing well with our towering project list. Really.

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Gary is doing good. He’s enjoying the company. Lots of laps to sit on and folks to cuddle up with. He’s batting about .950 these days with the housebreaking. Thank goodness, I think the little fucker is finally starting to get it.

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“Wha’ the fuh?…Gary! No!…Don’t….Wait!…Doh!…Aw man….”

The other morning I awoke to the sight of a Gary pinchin’ off a freshly laid log that he just couldn’t hold any longer. Nature was calling and, well, he didn’t wake me to help him out. But hey, that’s his problem, as, before we bed down each night, we make one last run outside to handle any wee hour deposits. Sometimes he’ll get this look on his face where he knows he better go, as, it’s gonna be another 6,7,8 hours before we head outside again, but then, sometimes, he’ll get kinda stubborn and just want to roughhouse. His choice. I can only provide so many opportunites.

He’s catching on, I think. Hell, this morning he started our day off with a “Two-fer.” That’s where the little man does both ordeals in one trip out back. Let the good times roll!

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Just been working, trying to catch up on all the stuff after the Michigan reprieve. I miss that couch back home real bad.