Not a Good Day

Husband was really good with dogs, but Fiorella beat him out when it came to getting Sonia Dog to take her medicine. He, being a guy, tried to strong-arm Doggie, to force the pill down her throat, but she promptly coughed it out onto the carpet. Next, he tried tucking the pill inside peanut butter or a mushy product sold for that purpose. Sometimes the pill went down, and sometimes it ended up on the carpet again, but Fiorella had no problem. She too used peanut butter as a lure, but she stuck the covered pill to rhe handle of a fork and OFFERED it to Sonia rather than trying to force it down her throat. Ladies like to be wooed, not pressured.
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Fio woke up a-rarin' to go, but her afternoon wasn't that great. Her buzon contained two fat envelopes of papers related to Husband's death that she was supposed to figure out and fill out. She started on the insurance papers because they were the ones that would provide her bread and butter in years to come. A couple of hours and a few tears later, she gave up and called the HELP number, then spent another hour on the phone, then had to race off to her bank for vital info. Why don't they just send her a check and have done with it?
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She decided to settle herself by going through the six-inch-thick pile of notes she's accumulated about what she wants to write, say, think, do, or research. Bad choice. Several dog interuptions later, her notes were even more confused than they had been. Time to go to watch television and head off to bed. Let's hope the ceiling doesn't leak again.