My granddaughter now has a puffy face from the dog bite and the eight stitches. She also has some PTSD, which is tough because they have three goofy dogs that love her and want to sit next to her on the couch. With any luck she'll be able to trust the dogs she knows but will be on guard with strange dogs in the future until she gets to know them well. I was bit by a dog when I was a kid, so I went home and got my baseball bat to deal with it. I was a bit of an asshole back when I was ten. Apparently this dog also randomly bit a toddler, so when I got there I was able to tell the police it had chomped on my leg. He asked why I didn't hit it with the bat and I told him I just went home to get one. He got a chuckle out of that.

I'm glad Turtle is feeling better.

Today was another day at the VA hospital. Yesterday was my cardiologist telling me not to explode, and today my endocrinologist put me on yet another pill. I only eat one real meal a day, the other two consist of tea and a handful of pills. Should make Thanksgiving interesting.

Called my son to wish him a happy hatching day. As usual we bantered about how I didn't know how birthing worked because a stork brought him, and I then retorted that it proved he was hatched by the giant bird. Score one for dad.

Hope y'all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, or at least an enjoyable Thursday.

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