Lordy Lordy Look Who’s

hunter-puppy


SEVENTY-SEVEN!
Eleven years ago on this very day a little bundle of a puppy was born.
Right into a shelter.
He was saved by a sweet young couple who scooped him up.
Four years later, that all went to hell.
And then he found us.
Millie and Sven.
Just a couple of innocent bystanders.
Minding their own business.
And...
This morning I read on the internet that if you are born on the 3rd of October you tend to be less self-centered than other Libras born under the same sign.
WOW.

That makes me wonder if everything on the internet is really true.
And if it is really true, which we all know it is, it makes me wonder how self-centered my uncle Gary is.
His birthday is October fourth.
Well, I don't have time to worry about my aunt's problems.
It is party day.
And we have grandiose plans.
Actually, the moon and the stars just lined themselves up.
We didn't have to do much.
Not like last year when Hunter wanted to go bowling.
What a fiasco that was.
Due to a couple of little misfortunes and miscalculations, our firewood supply has dwindled into nothing.
There isn't even a twig in the shed.
So.
My sweet Sven made a difficult phone call yesterday.
He got on the horn and ordered a truckload of firewood.
It is going to be delivered right here.
To Hunter's castle.
Today.
And if there is one thing our Tug-O-War Champion of the World, likes to do, it is to scare the Bejesus out of unsuspecting delivery people.
Not only that, but I also put a pair of really cute shoes in one of those online shopping carts a month ago.
According to the tracking number, it looks like they finally got the things made. They are on the way.
They have been in transit for more than a week.
It looks like today could be the day.
And if there is one thing our famous wooly mammoth hunting, king of the jungle, likes to do, it is to chase that UPS guy out of our long driveway.
There ain't nothing more satisfying than seeing that brown uniform jump into that big old truck of his and put it into gear so that you can nip at those spinning, squealing tires of his.
It is too bad Sven's dumpster isn't scheduled to be emptied.
But really, a guy can only handle so much excitement.
Even if it is his birthday.

hunter-on-deck

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