The Wrong Kind of Spooky

I didn't get a spooky post up yesterday because I was dealing with something scary, a sick Rosie. The vet couldn't see us and I didn't know what was wrong. All I knew was she felt pitiful and miserable. She wouldn't eat, drink, chase the cats, wag her tale, put up her ears, walk but to hobble. I felt pitiful and miserable and sick with worry about her. I not only didn't get anything spooky up, I didn't get anything done at all. It was like having a sick toddler. All I did was hold her all day and all night.


The good news is that early this morning I heard voices outside as some kids walked down the street. And after that I heard a soft growl from beneath the covers. Rosie had heard them too and had the energy to be annoyed at someone walking down her street. Shortly after she wanted to go out to her yard to go potty. And later she did her little tippy tappy walk up and down the hall to follow Hubby around. This afternoon she's again herding the cats and had a nice bowl of cream of rice cereal and some water. WHEW.

Right now she's sleeping and I've got to start shoveling out this mess of a house before I do anything else, including being here online. Maybe this evening I can get something else up, while I'm watching the presidential debate on television. For now, although not the enjoyable kind, this experience certainly counts as a spooky one.