Coming back upstairs, disgruntled and wet after having to go out in the rain to retrieve my iPhone, to find my dogs going completely insane with joy because they saw me going to the car and thought I was deserting them.

I'm having kind of a lousy weekend. I have some chronic health issues, and these last several months everything has kind of come to a head—I've spent an inordinate amount of time sick in bed, and I'm hugely behind in just about every aspect of my life. I'd really hoped to use this long weekend to get things in order, but instead I felt lousy all weekend and got nothing whatsoever done, plus my apartment is an utter shithole, which always makes me feel like 300% worse. Having to go out in the pouring rain after spending hours beating myself up over everything seemed like the LAST straw.

And then I got up to my apartment, and Buster and Sophie absolutely lost their minds with joy, even though I'd been gone a grand total of 45 seconds, and it seriously just turned around my whole mood. I don't know how I lived before having pups, I really don't.

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Also, while I have you lovely people, can I ask you to think good thoughts in Buster's direction tomorrow? He has a little growth on his face that the vet is taking off. She says it's probably nothing, but she wants to check to be sure, which of course is scaring me quite a bit. And poor Buster is terrified of the vet—he's usually such a confident dog, but when we're there he just shakes like he did when I first met him at the shelter. It breaks my heart. And he hates nothing more than when I have to leave him there. So I'm worried about possible cancer and feeling horrible for what I have to subject him to....