One-handed wonder

You know what’s funny about having a dog? The things you say out loud in public that you would never say if there wasn’t a leash hanging from your wrist. Such as: “Let’s poop here, under this tree. This seems like a great tree to poop on, don’t you think, Maggie? I do. How’s about you poop here, okay?”

You know what’s not funny? Losing the use of your left hand. That is not funny at all. Waiting patiently for wounds to heal. It’s only been a day, but I’m tired of keeping my left hand elevated. I had to have my roommate, Molly, fasten my bra this morning.