I’m a worry wart. I spend much of my time waiting for the oh-so proverbial shoe to drop square on my face, reinforcing my Chicken Little thoughts that the sky is indeed falling. Yes, one could say I need to take a chill pill. So it goes without saying that my fur-child Abbey, who is the apple of my eye, is a well-monitored and cared for pup. I would do anything for that crazy wily little (medium-sized) dog. Continue reading “I Feel Sorry For My Future Children” →